


Not How It Works

by starrdust411



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Racial Language, Mpreg, Pregnant Steve, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrdust411/pseuds/starrdust411
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In that moment Steve felt like a drowning man pulling everyone down with him and of all the things Sam could do, hugging him was probably the most absurd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**September**

This wasn't how Steve wanted to do this, but he knew that he couldn't move forward until they got this out of the way. They had called up Sam's mother the day before and were instantly offered an invitation to come over for Sunday dinner. Steve pulled himself together as well as he could, Sam reassuring him every step of the way that things would be fine, that they were okay, but that didn't stop his insides from twisting and knotting the whole time they were in the car.

The drive to Harlem was tense and Steve was feeling jittery even before they could find a place to park. They had to stop so he could catch his breath, sit in the car for a good half hour before he found the resolve to get out, and the long climb up to the third floor apartment almost felt like a death march.

Yet Darlene Wilson was pleasant, almost painfully kind, and full of understanding as she welcomed Steve into her home with a warm hug and a kind hand that seemed to always find its way to his cheek, his shoulder, or even the tip of his chin. She fed him heaps of food that he hardly ate and asked him loads of questions that only danced along the line of uncomfortable and never once did Steve feel that she was giving him the third degree because he was Captain America. Somehow that made it all worse, made the ball of guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach roll and gather size until he felt too full to even take a bite of the cherry pie on his plate. 

Sam noticed, because he had been watching Steve keenly all night, and was quick to give his fingers a supportive squeeze before finally making the announcement they had dropped everything and drove half way across the country to make. 

Sam cleared his throat and set his own crumb filled plate aside next to the empty coffee cups on the dinner table. "Mom, we came here because we wanted you to be the first to know," Sam said firmly and Steve actually found himself sinking into the folds of his clothes the way he used to when he was small. "We're getting married."

Darlene looked at them with wide eyes, her mouth hanging slightly ajar in stunned silence. Steve knew right away what she was thinking; that he and Sam had only known each other a few months, that this was only the first time she and Steve had met, that Steve hadn't even been introduced to the rest of Sam's family and already they were taking what felt like a giant leap. The thought filled Steve with nothing but shame and he bowed his head even as Darlene chuckled kindly and looked between the two of them.

"Well, this is a bit... sudden," she said at last and even if she were holding back, Steve felt the word like a sharp jab to the gut. "Could've given your ol' mom a bit more notice than that! When's the big day?"

By then Sam's thumb was brushing across Steve's knuckles in a steady rhythm as Steve's leg continued to jitter and shake beneath the table. "Three weeks."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Three weeks?" she echoed then shook her head and laughed. "Why the rush?"

Steve's throat felt tight almost constricted, and he had to wonder what Darlene must think of him given how little he had said and how much he was throwing at her feet. Not for the first time or the last Steve felt grateful for Sam's presence, because he instantly answered his mother's question with a pleasant smile and a warm laugh. "We just wanted to keep things simple."

"And do you really think I'm just going to let my boy go down to the courthouse and sign some sheet of paper without his family there to show some support?" The question was light and chiding, but Steve still flushed even as Darlene stood to give him a reassuring hug and a motherly peck on the cheek. "My baby's getting married! You gotta let me celebrate you."

"We don't want anything big, Mom," Sam told her firmly, although he still welcomed the long, tight embrace that she offered him. "Just want to start our lives together."

"You say that now, but a few years down the road you'll be looking back and kicking yourselves for not going all out," she argued. 

For one horrifying moment Steve thought he would have to face down Sam's entire family and all of his friends and explain themselves, but Sam was able to talk his mother down from sounding the horn and gathering the entire Wilson clan together on such short notice. Yet Darlene wouldn't let them out the door without a firm promise that they would be coming by for Sunday dinner every week until the big day and Steve had a feeling those next three Sundays would be spent trying to convince them to push the date back or reconsider their decision to do things low key.

When they left Darlene offered them both another warm hug and a tupperware container filled with leftovers to reheat and Steve was flushed with the realization that he had hardly said more than two words to Sam's mother the entire evening.

"You're okay, man," Sam assured him the moment they slipped back in the car. "You're good."

"It was a disaster," Steve lamented, his eyes fixed on the still warmed plate resting in his lap. "She probably thinks I'm an idiot."

"Trust me, Steve, if she didn't like you, she would have said something." Sam turned the key in the ignition before switching on the lights and backing out onto the road. "You sure you're up for driving back to D.C. tonight?"

It probably would have been more practical to spend the night at Sam's mother's apartment, because Darlene had practically offered to set up the pull out sofa for them the moment they walked through the door, but Steve just wanted to be away from her kindness and warmth. "Yeah. We can switch off if you want," Steve suggested, but Sam was already shaking his head.

"Nah man, get some rest. You need it."

For the first two hours, Steve was too guilt ridden to sleep and stayed up with Sam to listen to the radio and watch the streetlights whiz by. By the third hour his head began to bob and he soon drifted off.

\--

**August**

It didn't take long for Steve to realize that something wasn't right, because even if he were currently living in a body that was supposed to be perfect he still had clear memories of what it was like to be sick. When it came right down to it, it was easy to know when something was wrong in your own skin. Yet even though he recognized it, he didn't want to acknowledge anything, didn't want to put into words the strange out of place sensation, because that would throw them off course. Steve only cared about one thing and getting that done surpassed everything else.

So when he got sick he did it quietly, hid himself away so that Sam wouldn't see him, pushed his body until he felt ready to collapse, and gritted his teeth against the dull throb that always seemed to be building behind his eyes. Sam caught on though, because it was impossible to hide anything from someone when your entire day was spent in close proximity to them, and it was ironically Sam who put into words the unnamed wrongness.

Another morning had come after an aimless night with no leads. They spent the night at a dingy side of the road motel and trekked across the street to the nearby grocery in search of something to eat for breakfast and that morning all Steve wanted were bananas. Sam stared at him, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as Steve picked out two healthy clusters and dropped them into their basket. "Really man? Bananas? That's _all_ you're going to eat?"

Steve shrugged, because nothing else had caught his eye, although he had to admit that a dozen bananas did seem a little odd next to Sam's yogurt parfait and microwavable breakfast burrito. (He quietly grimaced at the sight of it and hoped that Sam would air out the room after heating it up.) "It's a good morning for it," Steve said as he nodded towards the sale sign hanging from the rafters above them.

Sam kept staring at him, even after they checked out, even after they walked back to the hotel room, even after Steve ate and peeled and stuffed three whole bananas into his mouth. It was only when he had grabbed a trash bin to dump the peels into before starting work on the fourth did Sam's gaze flicker and the final piece of the puzzle slotted into place with the rest. "You're pregnant!"

It was odd how the word had actually made him want to throw up, but Steve put it on the fruit before he turned in order to give Sam his full attention and a dry laugh. "Yeah, funny."

Sam didn't seem to find it funny. His usually jovial face was awash with grim certainty as he moved away from the beaten down microwave resting on top of the small refrigerator that gave off more heat than chill in order to sit across from Steve on the foot of the bed. He studied him with a sort of intensity that Steve had never seen on Sam's face before and actually found himself pulling away ever so slightly before Sam finally eased up. "Oh my God. You're really pregnant."

"I'm not, I..." Steve fumbled, flustered, and dizzy because there was no reason for Sam to take this so seriously. If he was teasing then the joke had already lost its flavor and Steve wasn't having it. "Wh-what makes you say that?"

"Because I have a sister and a _lot_ of girl cousins," Sam said flatly, leaning back against the still unmade bed with an air of authority on the matter. "I've seen this before and you're showing all the signs."

"Signs?"

"Yeah, like how you've been puking your guts out every morning for the past three weeks at least even though you're not supposed to get sick, and by the way smart idea not telling me about that," Sam chided, his voice stern and weary before he continued on. "And how you've been eating nothing but fruit everyday for just as long and nearly threw up on my shoes the second I mentioned a burger the other day. See! You're turning green right now. And let's not forget that even though you've been on an all fruit diet for almost a month now you've been out of breath and weak and actually _gained weight_!" Sam reached out a hand and touched it to Steve's middle which, admittedly, no longer looked as flat or felt as hard as it should have. "You're pregnant."

"Stop it! Stop saying that!" he snapped. Steve frowned because he had never snapped at Sam before, never felt the need or lost patience with him because Sam was always kind and understanding and good, but this just... it wasn't funny. He grabbed the rest of the bananas and hurled them to the floor where they hit with a heavy _splat_ before turning into yellow mush. "I'm... I'm fine," he said stubbornly. Steve wrapped his arms around his waist in order to guard himself from Sam's touch and his fingers dug into his sides until the fabric of his shirt felt ready to tear. "And so what if I'm out of it? So what if I'm tired sometimes? After everything that's happened..."

Sam looked to the mess on the ground for only a second before his gentle eyes flickered back to Steve. His touch was tender and reassuring as he pressed his hand to Steve's bicep, but Steve didn't want it and pulled away. "Yeah. Yeah you have been through a lot, we both have, and maybe we're not thinking straight." Steve shifted away and Sam let him, maintaining his place on the other end of the mattress as he considered things carefully. "You gotta tell me though, and remember I'm just talking hypothetically here, can this sort of thing happen? To you?"

"No," Steve said automatically, but it was a lie. At least, he wasn't certain if it was. He had never really gotten a chance to ask any questions, to Erskine or anyone, because there was always so much to do and get done and even when things seemed to settle down they really hadn't because life was always changing. Steve looked down and saw that his knees were shaking and it seemed so stupid to not know what your own body could do. Not his body, this body. This body that was still something of a mystery, because it even now felt so new and if it really could do this... if it was possible... "I don't know. I don't know."

Beside him Sam sighed and swallowed and in the quiet of the room Steve could almost hear Sam's heart thumping in his chest as his own had a frantic jumping fit. "We have to go home."

His face fell into his hands as too many things swirled around him. Sam wasn't wrong, not entirely, because this wrongness was _something_ and even if it wasn't _that_ he still needed to know _what_ , but he also couldn't _stop_. "How did this happen?" he groaned into his palms before tipping forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "How did we... I mean, if I... we used protection didn't we? Every time!"

He felt the mattress rise and fall ever so slightly in response to Sam's shrug. "Well, have you ever actually _read_ the package on those things? Condoms aren't one hundred percent. Even if they don't break, there's still a chance something can happen."

That made sense, but it didn't make sense, because why make protection that wasn't an absolute and why trust a piece of plastic to protect yourself from something dangerous when you have the option of not doing it at all? Everything seemed to be splitting down the middle, because Steve knew that he needed to stop, even for a minute he needed to stop, but he couldn't stop not even for a second because if he did turn away then Bucky... 

Bucky. He had to find Bucky. He needed to help Bucky and set things right, but if this was actually happening, if he actually was what Sam said then he needed to protect himself and get help and do the right thing, but wasn't finding Bucky the right thing?

Sam's fingers were carding through his hair and Steve didn't even realize that he was practically in his lap until the room began to crowd in and the air became too hot and heavy to breathe. He felt like he was small and weak again and choked on the weight of things that kept falling on top of him. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't happening, but it could be happening.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay," Sam soothed and oh _God_ he couldn't have picked a worse thing to say. That didn't stop Steve from clinging to him, pulling Sam down until they were pressed impossibly close and he had no choice but to breath in his sent with his nose buried against the nap of Sam's neck. Sam kissed the shell of his ear and rested his cheek against Steve's forehead; all the while Steve was tearing at his clothes and crying like a fool in his arms. "You're okay. I've got you. I'm here."

"Oh God Sam, God!" he rasped. "I can't do this. I can't!"

"You can," Sam promised. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." A moment passed and somehow Steve knew it was only a moment even though the world was still collapsing and expanding around him. "Do you want to go for a walk? Let's go walk."

They grabbed their shoes and the room key and walked up and down the block at least a dozen times until their shoes were worn and their feet felt sore. Sam kept in step with him, silent but by his side and a part of Steve appreciated that, but a bigger part of Steve was tempted to just run and keep running until Sam was no more than a spec on the horizon. At last they went back to the motel and even though it was barely past midday by then, Steve was tired and crawled right into the freshly made bed. He tried not to think of why he might have been so tired or the fact that the cleaning staff had to clean up the mess he'd left on the floor and just slept. 

He slept until dinner time and by then Sam had ordered them some pizzas that were delivered straight to the room. Steve ate a whole pie and half of the other and then went right back to bed, because he didn't want to think about this anymore. Around midnight Sam slid into bed behind him, one arm slung around his waist and his chest pressed flat against Steve's back. "I'm with you," he told him silently. "I'm here." Steve cried to himself because he had already met and ruined one man who had wanted to go to the end of the line and back and it just didn't feel right to ruin Sam like this.

By morning he was curled up in Sam's arms, his head pillowed against his chest while Sam's hand combed its way slow and lazy through Steve's hair. Even if his stomach was rolling with that familiar jitter he still felt too warm and too good to do anything but lay there.

"Wanna take a test?" Sam asked, voice thick with sleep, after a long stretch of laying quietly in bed. "Just to be sure?"

Steve swallowed and did his best not to cry when he said "No." He could feel the frown on Sam's face, feel the disapproval rumbling in his chest, before he went on. "I wanna see a doctor."

\--

**September**

It was pitch black by the time they got back to the house, Sam's house. Sam nudged him awake when they pulled into the darkened driveway ("Pregnant or not, there's no way I'm carrying you inside.") and Steve wanted to kick himself for forgetting to leave the porch light on. He grabbed the leftovers and headed inside, walking behind Sam who moved slow and careful in the dark even though it was more familiar for him than Steve. 

When they were inside Steve went straight into the kitchen and threw the tupperware into the microwave, ignoring the bright green numbers that told him it was already midnight, and punched the buttons for two minutes.

"You eat that now and you're going to throw up come morning," Sam chided from the entryway where he was nicely taking his shoes off and putting them aside.

"If I don't eat then I'm going to throw up _now_ ," Steve countered as he sheepishly toed off his own shoes and carried them back to their proper place at the front of the house.

Sam intercepted him, grabbed the tennis shoes out of Steve's hand and smiled as he bent over to put them away for him. "You did good today, solider," he said after he straightened himself up and offered Steve's shoulder a teasing, but comforting, pat.

"Really? Because I feel like a jerk." He sighed and headed back into the kitchen to grab a fork and pour himself a cup of water. He wasn't surprised when Sam followed him in. Sam grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer. "Your mom must think you settled for a real dummy. Coming all the way to her place to say I'm marrying her son without even popping by once before hand."

"She liked you just fine," Sam assured him as he ran his spoon under the hot tap water to get it warm. "Trust me. My mom's pretty open about this sort of thing. Once I brought this girl by, Mom near threw her out before she could even get her coat off."

The microwave buzzed to announce its completion and Steve pulled out the plate and dug in without even waiting for it to cool. His aversion to all things not green and growing had started to fade and he was actually able to enjoy the pork chops and black beans Sam's mother had prepared for them. "Yeah, well, she'll hate me when she finds out about this," he lamented. They had agreed to tell Sam's mother, _only_ Sam's mother, after the wedding and even if Darlene could pretend to be okay with her son marrying Captain America, how could anyone pretend to be okay with something like _this_.

"Are you kidding? My Mom loves kids! Just watch, when the baby comes we won't be able to get her out of here."

Steve said nothing as he jabbed at the beans with the prongs of his fork. He had a feeling that Sam didn't really understand the gravity of their situation. They were still getting to know each other because it had only been a few months since everything had fallen apart and even less time since they'd started whatever this was. Now they were here, in _Sam's_ house that was supposed to be _their_ house, with a wedding in a few weeks and something much bigger in a matter of months.

Sam finished scooping out ice cream for himself and put the pint back in the freezer, before taking a seat at the breakfast table. "You okay? You're turning white again."

Steve wasn't okay, because he was exhausted and frustrated and once again he was turning Sam's world upside down. This was all happening because of him, because he didn't know his body, didn't even understand how he worked. He sighed and sat down at the table next to Sam, late night snack temporarily forgotten as he grabbed Sam's free hand and held it in his. "Are _you_ okay? Really okay? I mean, this is weird and nothing you signed up for."

Sam smiled and slipped his hand out of Steve's grasp in order to sling his arm over his shoulders and pull him close. "Man, I pretty much signed up for everything and anything the second I let you in my door. And, yeah, this is probably on the top my list of shit I'd ever expect -- I mean, I got Captain America pregnant! -- but this is also good. It's a good kind of weird, because it means you, me, and a baby."

He shook his head, because he couldn't see it, couldn't see how this would be the good kind of weird when it was just so much. In that moment Steve felt like a drowning man pulling everyone down with him and of all the things Sam could do, hugging him was probably the most absurd. "We don't have to do this, you know, get married? You don't have to stick with me forever if you don't really want to. We can just go our seperate ways like people sometimes do nowadays."

It wasn't the first time Steve had offered him a way out, because Sam was just too good for this, too good for him. He had a real life with a family and friends and a job that helped people without using a gun or wearing a mask. He had a home -- a real home that felt lived in and warm -- and a routine that he could get back to. Sam had all the things that Steve was selfish enough to want but knew better than to ask for, because giving his body over to his country and science meant that his life no longer belonged to him and if he could do one good thing today it would be to set Sam free before the ropes got too tight and he was dragged down with Steve.

He had expected Sam to be relieved or hesitate a moment before reluctantly accepting the offer, not for Sam to pull away or for genuine hurt to flash in his eyes. "What are you trying to say? You want to walk away from me? Dump the kid as soon as it's born and never look back?"

"No!" he blurted out instantly, because that wasn't what he had in mind at all. He wanted their kid, had always wanted to have a kid and maybe a dozen more, he wanted a home in the suburbs with a white picket fence and someone to come home to and if that someone could be Sam he'd be the luckiest man alive, but he couldn't pull Sam in when this was his mess. "That's... that's not what I had in mind at all. I want to raise it, I just..."

"Don't wanna do it with me?" Sam finished. They had been so in sync for so long, so connected and fluid that it hurt to be here, in a place where Sam kept jumping to the wrong conclusions and Steve kept hurting him with his words, even if it was unintentional. "Is that it? Am I the problem?"

"No, that's not it at all. _I'm_ the problem!" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck as he tried to sort through everything in his head. "Hydra's still out there, they're fragmented and weak, but they're still there. They'll come after me, but you can be safe. You can slip away and forget, but I'm stuck here. I don't want you to be stuck with me."

Sam grabbed his face and pulled him back in, kissed his lips and pressed their heads together. His touch was warm and sure and so many things Steve shouldn't wish for, but wanted anyway. "I really must have settled for a dummy," Sam joked and Steve chuckled in spite of himself. "I wasn't going to turn my back on you before, when there was nothing in it for me, now I'm invested, there's a part of me in you and I can't let you put yourself or it in danger." His lips brushed against Steve's brow and Steve felt himself smile just a bit as he reached up his hands and grabbed at Sam's wrists, wanting nothing more than to hold him there forever. "It's fast and it's scary and it's weird, but I'm with you for the long haul no matter what."

He cried at that. He didn't want to but he cried and Sam held him, because he was good like that and he didn't make a fuss even when his ice cream had turned to a puddle in his bowl and Steve's pork chop went ice cold.

\--

**August**

There weren't many people that Steve felt comfortable letting in on the news, because there were a lot of things that Steve wasn't comfortable with and sharing personal information about himself was definitely one of them. Back in his time men who liked men didn't go around advertising it -- they did their business in the dark and made sure to keep their tracks covered so that no one was the wiser -- and while things were different, better even, it was still hard for Steve to admit to himself that he was one of those men let alone live out in the open like most did now. Now there was Sam and there was this and things were big and complicated and he didn't know what rules to play by, just knew that he didn't want to head back into town waving a banner in the air saying that there might be a bun in an oven that shouldn't even have the proper equipment for baking.

Still they had to pick and choose who to tell and be careful about it, especially when they weren't sure what was going on, if anything was going on. So Steve chose to confide in Hill, because she was clean and trust worthy, but even then he wouldn't show his hand show too much. He just told her they needed a doctor, a trust worthy one who could be discreet in even the most unusual situations. Hill gave them the name of a man who had worked closely with SHIELD and was guaranteed to be clean and discreet and Hill swore on her spotless reputation that they could trust him. He was also a surgeon and Steve didn't know if that was fortunate or disheartening, because a surgeon was not what they needed right now.

They drove to a hospital upstate, wearing hats, glasses, and hooded sweaters and probably went a bit too far to look inconspicuous. He felt jittery from the lobby all the way to the office where they would have a one on one consultation before going through with the tests and Steve didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know whether it would be worse for Sam to be right or wrong, because if he was right then their whole lives changed and if he was wrong then something much worse could be happening under his skin. 

In truth Steve had never really been afraid to die. He had spent most of his life sick and thinking that one bad day could be his final day. Even with a new body packed with muscles and vigor a sense of danger had always hung over his head along with the bombs falling from the skies and bullets spraying them day in and out. So maybe he wasn't nervous because he was afraid, maybe he was on edge because Sam was worried and had barely let Steve out of his sight. Sam was taking every opportunity he could get to kiss and touch and soothe until Steve felt he was swimming in the comfort that was probably more for Sam's sake than his own.

"We should have just taken the test back at the motel," Sam groused for what had to be the tenth time that day as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked off the elevator with Steve. "It would have been a lot easier than this."

"Those things aren't made for men," Steve muttered and it was probably a dumb thing to say given the circumstances, but even with his limited knowledge of medical science he still felt more comfortable getting a proper test done. He was comfortable with hospitals and doctors. It was only natural for him, a sick kid with a nurse for a mom, and he even if something fishy happened Sam would be near to watch his back and that was reassuring enough. "Besides, this way we'll have a clear answer and get everything else out of the way no matter what."

Sam didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything either, just shook his head and made a grab for Steve's hand even though he knew that Steve didn't like doing that out in the open. He tried to shake Sam's hand off when they reached the opened door to the doctor's office, but Sam kept his hold stubbornly tight and Steve was forced to enter into the brightly lit room with Sam's fingers intertwined with his own.

It took a second for the doctor to recognize him, but it was only a second, because Steve's disguise was paper thin and only really worked if you weren't looking directly at him. When he did recognize him, the doctor gave Steve a polite but distant smile and offered to shake his hand. "Captain Rogers. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Stephen Strange."

\--

**September**

"I've got some bad news for you buddy." Steve turned to Sam as he entered the kitchen, partially obscured by the clutter of grocery bags that had filled up most of the free counter space. Sam grunted as he lifted the massive green fruit onto the last vacant patch on the counter where it landed with a thud that made the coffee pot and dish wrack rattle. He let out a slow, heavy breath as he placed a proud hand on top of it and Steve's stomach was already rumbling. "This is probably the last watermelon of the season."

For some reason that made Steve a bit sad, because he still had a taste for melon and the idea of losing that part of his diet was frustrating. It also made him hungry and happy and he wanted to kiss Sam or cry or do both, but he didn't do any of that. Instead he grabbed one of the larger knives from the drawer and instantly started hacking away even though there were still groceries to put away on the counter and a few more bags out in the car. His mouth was practically salivating at the sight of the red fleshy insides all littered with seeds and glistening with juice and Steve just wanted to sink his teeth right in before he could even finish splitting the now halved watermelon into manageable slices.

"I'd tell you to make it last, but it looks like that's not gonna happen," Sam teased before ducking back out to the car. "And when you're done having an affair with the fruit I could use a second pair of hands outside."

Steve laughed and finished cutting himself a slice, leaving the rest to wait in the sink before heading outside with the rind still clutched in his teeth. "You know what this would go great with?" Steve asked between a mouthful of half chewed watermelon and seeds as he gathered the last dozen or so bags into his arms. 

"Uh, strawberries?" Sam ventured as he closed the trunk and followed Steve inside. "Or mango? Blueberries, pears, pineapples, apples, bananas...? I made sure to get pretty much everything in the produce section. Also bought kale, spinach, two kinds of lettuce, cauliflower, tomatoes, radishes..."

"Bacon," Steve declared suddenly and enthusiastically and his stomach was already rumbling at the prospect of thick crispy slabs of bacon hot off the pan to go with the fresh sliced melon.

Sam was behind him, but he could hear him stumble momentarily before they made it back into the kitchen to deposit the rest of the bags. "Well... damn," Sam breathed as he looked around at the sea of bags bursting with enough greens to stock a farmer's market. "I wish you had told me that veggie time was over."

"I know, I'm sorry," Steve told him guiltily before going back to finishing off the rest of his snack. "I mean, I still want this stuff. I want apples and pumpkin and thick ears of corn but... I also want bacon. And I want ham and turkey and a big rack of ribs." He groaned and put the rind he had been chewing on into the trash bin before pressing his juice slicked palm to his forehead. It was bad enough that Sam had to buy enough food to feed a small army because of him, but having the keep up with his body's unreasonable demands was trying for both of them. "I wish I could predict when my body would change its cravings, but I can't. It's frustrating and dumb."

"It's not a big deal," Sam shrugged as he plucked one of the slices from the counter top and began munching on it. Steve didn't have the heart to tell Sam that he had intended to eat the whole melon himself, but he was also willing to share. "I mean, I don't have turkey or ribs, but I should have a few slices of bacon left and some ground beef buried in one of these bags. I'll make us some bacon burgers for lunch. It'll be okay."

Steve nodded, because it was easy to believe Sam when he talked like that and Sam had to be the strangest man alive to keep rolling with the punches in such bizarre circumstances. 

"And just so you know, along with my mom calling every five minutes to give us new 'suggestions' for the wedding that we're not having, Dr. Dracula has been blowing up my phone." Steve cringed at the mention of Strange, which Sam noticed and continued on anyway. "He's been leaving messages everyday asking when we're going to come in for that ultrasound and since I know you're probably going to freak out and ask to put it off, I decided to just go ahead and made the appointment for next Wednesday."

Steve felt his heart and stomach rise and fall at that, because next Sunday was their last Sunday dinner with Darlene, the following Saturday they would be married, and by spring they would be... they would have... The dates were all blurring and rushing together and even if this one out of many appointments still to come it was hard for him to consider.

"Hey." Sam placed his hand on top of Steve's because his fingers had gripped the counter so tight that the faux granite was starting to crack. "Hey, it's okay man. It's just an ultrasound. We're just gonna see."

Steve wanted to nod, but he couldn't. Instead he pulled out the trash bin and threw up right in the middle of the kitchen. Distantly he heard Sam make a comment about no more watermelon before crouching down to hold his shoulders while Steve coughed and spat out seeds. Eventually Steve stopped and slid down to the floor, back pressed against the cabinets and face flushed with sweat as he wiped his mouth on the sleeve he wasn't wearing.

"Jesus Steve," Sam groaned as he came to sit down next to him. "It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Steve snapped. "Everything is a big deal! Stop being so calm and just freak out with me!"

"And how is me freaking out going to help, Rogers? How would me losing it make things better for you?" Sam locked himself up, his eyes and mouth screwing shut as he clenched his fists at his sides and Steve imagined Sam was doing the silent "count to ten" exercise he'd told him about. "Look Steve, two weeks ago you gave me a window, you offered me a way out and I'm about to do the same for you. Tell me right now if this is too much and you can just walk."

"No," he said instantly, shaking his head so quickly that he knocked into one of the knobs on the cabinet. "No I don't want that. I want to stay, I want you and I want... I want this, but I don't want to be... I don't want to be this way. I don't want to keep disrupting your life and making you drive around the country every time I need to see a doctor or empty out your bank account just to feed me. I don't want that."

Steve wasn't crying, but Sam was touching his cheek anyway, brushing away the beads of sweat with the pad of his thumb and laughing weakly at Steve's words. "You're a big dumb kid, do you know that? You're so freaked out about this you can't even say 'baby' or 'pregnant.'" He motioned for Steve to come closer and he did, scooting across the tiles until his head was pressed against Sam's shoulder and he had his arms wrapped around him a little too tight, but Sam didn't complain. "I'm alright with this. If I wasn't I would have said so. It wasn't my plan, but some plans are okay to change. I want to be a dad, I want to have a baby and maybe if this was happening to me I'd be freaking out too, but it's not and you're just going to have to deal with me being so awesomely calm all the time."

"I love you, Sam," he breathed and he meant it. He wasn't used to saying that or hearing it, but in that moment he felt it, really felt it.

Sam grunted a bit and it was probably because Steve had tightened his hold on him. "I love you too," he managed to wheeze out. "And I love our baby. We're going to get an ultrasound on Wednesday and hear its heartbeat and make sure everything's okay. Maybe we'll even get some pictures for my mom so she'll know we're not bullshitting her."

Steve nodded, because that sounded like a pretty good plan. He turned to kiss Sam, but Sam only laughed and ducked away. "Dude you just threw up not five minutes ago."

"Oh." Steve blushed as he yanked himself away from Sam and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh right."

He got to his feet and went to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth and then came back to the kitchen to help Sam with the rest of the groceries.

\--

**August**

"Captain Rogers, you're pregnant."

The jitters stopped and that was bad. His head spun and his legs felt heavy as his insides went cold and then hot. He heard Sam curse at his side, likely bowled over himself by the half expected news, and Steve stood and walked over to the waste bin by the foot of the desk in order to throw up.

"Shit Steve," Sam breathed as he and Dr. Strange helped Steve to get back to his seat. "Shit."

The office was spinning, the plaques and degrees mounting the wall seeming to tip and spin before his eyes as Steve felt his insides clench and burn with the need to throw up again and again. Sam was holding his hand and Strange was offering him water, but Steve didn't know if he'd be able to drink it. There was no one there but them, just the three of them in an office in a hospital with the sun streaming in through the windows and birds chirping in the trees outside. The coal gray carpet started rolling like waves in front of his eyes and Steve had to squeeze them shut if he didn't want to be sick again.

Strange sighed and perched at the edge of his desk, waiting impatiently for Steve to re-gather his nerves and focus again. "I can't say for sure, Captain, but I do believe you are still in the early stages of your pregnancy and... there are options if you wish to take them."

"No," Steve said automatically because he knew instantly where Strange was headed with that idea. "No, I'm Catholic," and that was probably a stupid thing to say when he was sitting there holding hands with a man and had a baby in his gut.

His head stung at the word and Steve knew right away that he couldn't let himself say that again. He stood once more, but this time he turned away from the desk and punched a fist clean through the wall. The sound of plaster cracking and the feel of wood splintering against his knuckles felt good, but it didn't change anything so he punched the wall three more times before Sam came and pulled him away.

"Stop, stop!" Sam pressed him against his chest, wrapping his arms around Steve's biceps in a restraining hold that was also sort of a hug and Steve felt himself tipping his head back and crying, because this was just too much. He collapsed to the floor, pulling Sam down with him and again he distantly heard Sam speak, asking Strange to give them a minute alone and he felt a bit guilty for kicking the man out of his own office.

"I can't. I can't!" he sobbed and somehow he could just feel his face turning red as he continued to sit there on the rolling carpet and cry. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry."

Sam didn't say anything, didn't bother to ask what Steve was sorry for, he just sat with him and let him freak out for a few minutes more before grabbing a box of tissues off of Strange's desk and handing them to Steve. Somehow the act of being handed tissues made him step away and look at himself and Steve actually laughed as he wiped at the trail of tears drying on his cheeks and eyes. 

They waited a few minutes more before letting Strange back in. He looked at Steve's knuckles. They were red but they were fine and in less than an hour they would be healed. Strange gave them his card, took down their information and told them they would have to come back in for more tests and appointments soon and promised he would treat Steve with absolute discretion. Steve was too tired to decide whether or not he could believe or trusted Strange, only knew that he wanted to leave so they left. 

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked when they got to the bank of elevators. 

"Hungry," he said weakly and he didn't want to think about why he was suddenly feeling so hungry.

-

They went to a diner where Steve ordered a salad and Sam didn't order a burger even though they both knew he really wanted to eat one. Instead he got soup and watched Steve pick sadly at his greens in order to sort out all the bits of bacon and cheese that he had asked not to be put on, but had ended up in there anyway. When they finished they paid their bill and went back to the car and sat there for what felt like hours.

After a while Sam pulled out and drove them to a park where they continued to sit. Then he made Steve get out and walked with him until they found a tall tree with plenty of leaves and cool shade. There was no one else around and when Sam pushed him against the bark, propping him up like a doll, Steve instantly started to blush. Yet Sam didn't kiss him or tug on his shirt or pants, just slipped off his watch and placed it on Steve's wrist.

"What is this?" he frowned as he adjusted the worn leather strap against his wrist.

"Call it a place holder," Sam shrugged.

His frown deepened. "For what?"

"A ring," Sam said and Steve felt his face burn when he saw Sam sink down to one knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended this to be a one part stand alone story, but when it comes to mpreg I just can't be brief. This idea sprung into my head while reading through a bunch of Sam/Steve fics and I knew that I couldn't move forward with my other projects until I started working on this. Most of this has been written so hopefully there will be fairly regular updates.


	2. Chapter 2

**October**

Steve made certain that the first thing out of his mouth when they saw Strange was an apology, because even if he had been upset and even if that day was still something of a haze, it was still no excuse for putting four holes in a man's wall, especially when he had only been trying to help. He could tell that Strange was put out a first, likely frustrated not only by their last encounter but with the way Steve had been avoiding him for almost a month, however, eventually he did accept Steve's apology and waved off all attempts to pay him for the damages.

"The child is our main concern today," Strange said resolutely as he led the two of them into a darkened exam room that looked as if it hadn't been used for years. Strange was a surgeon (a fact that he made clear quite often) and not at all trained for this sort of thing, but he was also determined to do as much as he could on his own given his promise to guard their privacy at all cost. 

"This will help me to look inside your stomach," Strange said when he had Steve on his back on the exam table with his shirt rolled up to his neck. He waved a hunk of plastic in the air and then pointed at the little television it was connected to. "This monitor will show us an image of your baby and I'll be able to see just how far along you are."

Steve nodded along with everything Strange said and even when he squirted a clear gel onto his stomach, Steve did his best not to dwell on how dumb this all seemed. He couldn't shake the feeling that Strange was talking down to him, using small simple words as if Steve were a child, but given his behavior during their last meeting, Steve reasoned that he likely deserved it. 

"Stop staring at my flab rolls, Wilson," Steve muttered under his breath, because he could see Sam making pinching gestures at the sight of the fleshy mound his stomach was slowly morphing into.

"No more washboard abs for you," Sam teased and Steve did his best not to laugh.

The machines flickered on and Steve found his body stiffening even as Strange directed him to remain calm as he traced the hunk of plastic over the swell of Steve's stomach. A gray image flickered on the screen and for a moment Steve didn't even think about what they were doing or what they were about to look at, just stared in awe at the idea that he was seeing inside himself and what would his childhood have been like if could have been able to look inside his frail little body to see all the things that were wrong with him.

"There it is, right there," Strange said, drawing Steve's attention away from his own thoughts and onto the monitor. Strange tapped his finger against the plastic screen and pointed to what looked like a small shadow of a body surrounded by black and more gray. It was tiny and misshapen and Steve wanted to reach out and press his hands against the monitor just to measure the size, but this was just a projection not the real thing. The real thing was inside, under his skin and it had eyes and arms and legs and he was already crying again, but that was okay because Sam was too.

"That's our baby," Sam sobbed as he pressed Steve's knuckles to his cheek as if to show him just how damp they were. "That's _our_ baby!"

Steve felt choked as he struggled not to squirm or move around too much, because he didn't want Strange to lose the signal or whatever it was. Strange reached over and flicked a switch and the sound of rapid fluttering filtered into the exam room. "That's... that's really fast," Steve said suddenly as he looked imploringly at Strange. "Is... is it okay? Is that normal?"

"Perfectly normal," Strange confirmed. "You have a healthy baby."

A deep breath escaped him and Steve felt as if he had waited a thousand years to hear that he had a perfectly healthy baby. He closed his eyes against the word. Baby. There was no denying it, no way of overlooking or avoiding it, because here it was in front of his eyes: a baby, his baby, his and Sam's baby. He was pregnant, he was having a baby, and he was okay because Sam was still here.

Sam slung an arm around Steve's neck and buried his face against the top of his hair, because he probably just needed to feel closer to him. Steve laughed, feeling a bit choked, but he managed to reach behind him and give Sam's back a quick pat just as Strange turned the speakers off and froze the image where it was.

"Well, Captain Rogers, you're a bit further along than I had originally thought," Strange said. He looked at the frozen image on the screen, sighed, and then turned back to them. "You're approximately ten weeks, which puts you near the end of your first trimester. You're not quite out of the woods just yet, but your chances of having a miscarriage have decreased significantly." Steve nodded vigorously at that and felt Sam press his face flush against the back of his head. His heart was still beating frantically, but it was a relief to know that he wouldn't have to worry about losing his baby. Strange looked at the monitor once more and then turned back to face them. "Your fetus is developed enough that I could tell you the sex if you'd like."

"No," he said instantly and was rewarded with a heavy groan from just over his shoulder.

"You are killing me Rogers," Sam groused playfully as he pulled himself away from Steve in order to look him in the eye. "Is there any question you plan on saying 'yes' to?"

"Well..." he started, but quickly stopped when he became mindful of their surroundings. Steve wanted to point out that it was saying "yes" that had gotten them into this situation in the first place, but that wasn't a joke that he felt comfortable making in front of Strange. "I just like the idea of being surprised."

Sam seemed to accept that and continued to sit quietly behind Steve's shoulder.

"Do you have any other questions you would like to ask me then?" Strange asked when it became clear that the two had reached an agreement.

Steve nodded and sat straighter as Strange pressed a medical wipe into his hand to clean the gel off his skin. "Actually yes. The serum... they said it locked itself into my DNA, that it became a part of me after the injection. My baby... will it be like me now or like me before the injection?"

Strange's face was grim and uncertain as he considered Steve's question. "The serum that was given to you was never successfully replicated and there's no preexisting records of another subject having a child after receiving the treatment. As it is, there's no way of knowing whether or not it can or will be passed on."

He had expected Strange to say something like that, but it didn't make him feel any better. Steve didn't know what would be worse, to have a child like his new self, an oversized freak with too many muscles and no sense of himself, or a child like his old self, frail and sickly and completely miserable. He could only hope that Sam's DNA would somehow fix everything by canceling out both cases.

\--

They married on a Saturday that was surprisingly warm and clear. Steve wore a suit that fit too snuggly around the waist and Sam pulled out a suit that had seen better days from the back of his closet. Sam's mother and a few of his aunts and uncles and a handful of cousins met them at the courthouse and any annoyance Sam felt at his mother's inability to stick to their wishes and keep the circle of trust small was outweighed by the fact that their appointed judge had kept them waiting for over an hour without so much as an apology. 

The ceremony itself was remarkably quick, but Sam's mother still managed to cry and Steve was just happy that he hadn't felt sick at all that day. He kissed Sam without hesitation in front of his family and the judge and when he closed his eyes Steve did his best not to think about how much of a pathetic whirlwind this all was. "I'm keeping the watch," Steve whispered to him when Sam pulled back far enough for him to speak.

Sam chuckled and cupped his face and Steve could feel the cool gold band against his slightly heated skin. "That's okay. Buy me a new one for Christmas and we're golden."

Sam's Aunt Gina invited them over to her house for a celebratory dinner that night and neither of them were all that surprised when they arrived to find close to fifty people were packed in under one roof. The men kept shaking their hands and patting them on the backs while the women swarmed around to offer warm hugs and teary kisses and the kids kept asking over and over if Steve were really the _real_ Captain America. 

"If we put in our time here, maybe we won't have to fly down to grandma's for Thanksgiving, next month," Sam reasoned lowly when the swarm of children dissipated long enough for him to get a word in. And if tonight were any testament then Steve imagined that Thanksgiving would be quite an event because one of Sam's uncles had fired up the grill while another was prepping a deep fryer and both seemed intent on cooking every kind of meat known to man. Sam's mother and aunts, meanwhile, must have spent the last three weeks preparing for the occasion because Steve had never seen so much food on one table before in his life. Steve was just thankful that he had changed out of his ill fitting suit and into a pair of pants with some slack since he couldn't keep his plate clean for more than ten seconds before someone came along to refill it.

"You're a big guy! Have another burger." 

"Steve have you tried any of this potato salad yet? Let me get you some." 

"You can't leave without trying some of Uncle Martin's ribs!" 

"Have you had some of these greens yet, Steve? Let me fix you a plate." 

"Try some of this pie, Steve. It'll go great with a little ice cream." 

"Don't forget to grab a slice of my rum cake, too. I'll make sure to give some to Sammy to take back with you."

By the end of the evening Steve felt so crammed with food that he just wanted to sit on the couch and let his stomach sort through it all, but even in the living room he wasn't protected from the swarm of relatives. Sam's male cousins kept filtering in to make note of how tall he was while the girls insisted on informing him about his looks and Steve wondered if it were possible to pull a muscle from blushing so much.

"You're really handsome, you know that?" Sharon, Sam's cousin from his father's side, noted from her perch on the arm of the couch. "Just... _really_ pretty."

"Stop that Sharon. The man just got married," her sister Tracy noted and Steve guessed from her hand gestures that Sharon had had one too many drinks that night.

"Nah, man, he's really pretty." Sharon reached down to touch his face and Steve had to fight off the urge to flinch back or pull away. "Your skin looks so healthy."

"Um, thank you," Steve managed to say as he ducked his head out of her grasp as politely as he possible, only to have another hand fall firmly to his shoulder. 

He turned and was met with the warm smile of Sam's Aunt Gina and he could tell from the smell of her clothes that she was a smoker, but did her best to cover it up with perfume. "Oh yes he is a cutie," Gina said with a gleam in her eyes that made it clear she wanted to pinch his cheeks. "Look at these muscles! And you do have smooth skin. What do you use?"

"Uh, nothing," he said sheepishly. If someone said that he was glowing then Steve had a feeling he would lose whatever small grasp he had left on his splintering nerves.

Sam came by then and Steve was grateful when he grabbed him by the arm and gently guided him away. "Sorry ladies, gotta borrow my man for a second," he announced and Steve would have been relieved if Sam didn't add under his breath in a low voice that only he could hear, "Mom's waiting for us upstairs."

Steve's head was reeling even as Sam guided him up the stairs, pressing against the walls in order to avoid stepping on any of the children who were currently hanging from the railing or running back and forth. "Now? You want to tell her now?" he whispered as his stomach began to flutter. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight?"

"We did say after the wedding," Sam shrugged, but Steve was able to stop him before they could reach the end of the hall.

"I thought you meant a few days or even a week," Steve sighed before running a twitching hand over his flushed face. "Sam... I can't. I can't do this now."

"Steve, it's just my mom, only my mom. She won't freak out, I promise." 

Steve frowned and looked at Sam, really looked at Sam, and saw the sweat beading on his brow, the pulse in his throat, and the way his hands trembled ever so slightly. Looking past the even tone and steady gaze Steve could see that Sam was just as nervous as he was, but he also wanted this, needed it and Steve decided to let go of his own reservations and do this for Sam. Steve slipped his hand into his and laced their fingers together before allowing Sam to lead him the rest of the way into the guest bedroom where his mother was waiting for them.

Darlene was sitting on the foot of the nicely made little bed, expectant and somewhat annoyed at having been dragged away from the rest of the family in order to be shut up in a tiny little room and Steve had to fight to keep his face from burning to brightly. Sam closed the door behind them before pulling out the desk chair for Steve and sitting stiffly next to his mother on the bed.

"Mom," Sam began carefully as he placed one hand on his mother's shoulder and used the other to cover the hands that were folded in her lap. "Steve and I have something to tell you and it's very important that it stays just between us. Nobody else can know about this, not even Grandma."

She looked at Sam's too serious expression and gave out a quick little laugh. "What's all this about?" she asked, looking between the two of them carefully. Steve's head bowed the moment Darlene turned to him and she was quick to flicker her gaze back to Sam in search of answers. "You boys are already married. What else is there to tell me?"

Sam chuckled, his eyes lighting up in a way that Steve now noticed they always did when this subject was brought up. "Mom, we're gonna have a baby."

Darlene stiffened as if struck and Steve watched with a painfully clenched throat as her eyes widened at the unexpected declaration. "Well you two certainly do move fast," she chortled breathlessly before placing one of her hands to Sam's cheek. "How... how did you manage to find a child to adopt so quickly?"

Sam's mouth fell open and snapped shut as a lost look settled onto his features and Steve decided to step in and offer him a hand. He cleared his throat and gained Sam and Darlene's attention. "Mrs. Wilson," he said carefully, speaking the words as steadily as he could manage given the circumstance. "We... we aren't adopting. I'm the one that's pregnant."

Darlene was silent as she stared at Steve with eyes that were so wide and unblinking that his own lids began to ache in sympathy. After a while she only shook her head and babbled a bit, before Sam stepped in to offer a quick explanation about the serum, how neither of them had known about this sort of side effect, and that they planned on keeping this pregnancy a secret for as long as possible and would tell the rest of the family that this was all part of an adoption when they felt the time was right.

Even when Sam finished his account Darlene was still silent. Her face had shifted from stunned to confused to contemplative before settling into a thoughtful frown as she gazed at her son as if waking up from a very strange dream. "Sam," she began slowly, pressing a hand to Sam's shoulder and looking him straight in the eyes. "Sammy, are you alright? Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm... I'm good. I'm alright."

Darlene nodded and gave a weak "okay" before pulling her hand away from Sam's shoulder and using it to swat the back of his head. "You couldn't have told me about this three weeks ago when you showed up at my door straight out of the blue? I was going out of my head wondering just what was going on and you just sat back and let your mom lose her mind? I raised you better than that!" Sam tried to get a word in, but Darlene gave his head another sharp swat. "I don't believe you. You could have told me. I am your _mother_! You should have told me the second you knew!"

"And say what?"

Darlene clucked her tongue and turned towards Steve. She stood and he stiffened even as she framed her warm hands against his face and looked at him with so much pity in his eyes. "I should have known this was happening," she said thickly as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "I saw the signs in you, but I couldn't place it. Are you okay, boy? You alright?"

"I... fine," he fumbled weakly before standing in order to show Darlene his sincerity. "I'm fine, but... I'm so sorry Mrs. Wilson, I'm-"

"Oh you big dumb blond baby, c'mere," she chided before pulling Steve down into a tender hug. He felt the heat of her tears soak through the front of his shirt and couldn't help but wrap his large arms around her much smaller frame. "We're family now. Call me 'Mom.' You don't have your mama here to help you through this, but you've got me. I'm going to take good care of you and my grandbaby and make sure my knucklehead son doesn't mess things up."

"Your son is a good man, Mrs. Wilson," Steve told her firmly. "He's patient and kind and even if I never planned for this I'm lucky to have him with me."

"You're such a good boy," she chuckled, offering his back a few quick pats before pulling away. "Your mama raised you well. I hope that baby is a sweet as you." She smiled and cupped his chin and Steve felt himself blush. "And I hope he has your pretty eyes."

-

"Your family really knows how to throw a party," Steve said as he rearranged a few shelves in the refrigerator in order to fit in the stacks of leftovers that had been stuffed into their arms on the way out the door. "I think we have enough leftovers here to last a week!"

"Or 'til breakfast with the way you've been eating." Steve threw a look over his shoulder to Sam who was smiling brightly as he gathered their jackets and put them on hooks by the door. "Hey, I'm not complaining!" he said defensively. "You're eating for two and all that."

"Packing it away is easy," Steve lamented, as he stuck a tupperware bowl filled with potato salad next to the egg carton with just enough room for the plate of grilled sausage. "Keeping it down is the real challenge."

Sam chuckled and came up behind him, running his fingers through Steve's hair and down the back of his neck before practically yanking him up by his belt loops. The refrigerator was still wide open when Sam steered him over to the counter and began tugging at his shirt. "Sam," Steve gasped before his words were swallowed up by Sam's lips. Sam kept tugging until his shirt was yanked free and Steve shuddered as the blast of cool air hit his chest. "Sam," he said again when Sam moved from his mouth over to his neck, sucking with enough force to bruise even his skin. It took everything he had to do it, but eventually Steve managed to put his hands on Sam's shoulders and push him away even as his whole body trembled with want. "We can't do this."

"It's okay," Sam promised in a voice that was already low and thick. His hands had found their way underneath Steve's shirt and his palms felt so warm and good against his back. "It's okay. We won't hurt the baby."

"No, I..." Steve looked down between them, hoping Sam would get the hint, but when his finger tips just started racking themselves against his skin in slow measured strokes, Steve knew he wasn't getting through. "You don't wanna do this."

"Don't want to?" Sam chuckled and stepped forward, rubbing his front against Steve's and he could feel just how eager Sam was in that moment. He groaned as Sam pressed his cheek against his and the scrape of his stubble was almost as good as the fingers still roaming his back. "Dude it's my wedding night! And I just got a really hot blond for a husband. Yeah, I think I wanna do this."

"You don't wanna see me like this, Sam," he moaned as Sam pressed his leg between Steve's thighs, nudging him apart. He found himself helping when Sam's hands moved from his back to his waist in order to lift Steve onto the edge of the counter and it just seemed so natural to hook his left leg over Sam's hip.

"Oh I definitely want to see you," Sam breathed as he pressed his lips to the pulse in Steve's throat and it all seemed to fall into place when Steve's hand stopped Sam's from touching his stomach again. The frown Sam pinned him with was at first confused then pitying and then thoughtful. "Oh. Oh, Steve I didn't mean that stuff before. I was just teasing. You're still beautiful."

"I'm getting big now," he sighed and touched a self conscious hand to the gentle hint of a bulge that was his middle. He hadn't been to the gym in months, hadn't run as much as a mile in weeks, because when he wasn't tired from being sick then he was exhausted from just being awake. All the books and magazines Sam had bought said that this was normal, that his energy level should come back in a matter of days, but Steve knew better than to think his body would snap back. He'd just keep ballooning until he couldn't see his feet and a part of him was sad to see this body soften out even if a bigger part of him was curious about what it would feel like to be soft and round. "I don't want you to see me like this. You'll keep thinking of it, even after and... it'll spoil it."

Sam laughed and pressed his forehead to Steve's chest and Steve could still feel his hot puffs of air even through the fabric of his shirt. "Steve, your narrow ass is still as tiny as the day I met you," he chuckled. "And trust me... you're not going to spoil anything." Sam looked up at him then and his already dark eyes seemed to have gone black. He licked his lips with a strange sort of hunger Steve had never seen and it sent a jolt through him even before Sam could press himself against Steve one more time. "I know you've been freaking out these last few weeks but... I dunno what it is... just thinking about this is driving me crazy."

"Whuh... really?"

Sam shook his head and tipped his hips upward again, causing another low groan to seep from Steve. "It's kinda weird... maybe even a little sick, but... Man! After that ultrasound I just wanted to throw you in that elevator and fuck you 'til we made a twin."

Steve laughed and relief spread through him even as desire kept coiling through his stomach. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, drawing him close. "Let's make another baby, Sam," Steve moaned and any other time they probably would have laughed themselves sick at that, but Sam just moaned and thrust again. "Let's make a twin."

"You keep asking like that..." Sam warned as he tugged at the hem of Steve's pants until they fell down.

"Fuck me Sam!" Steve almost whined. "Keep me like this. I wanna stay like this forever."

"Jesus, Rogers!" Sam groaned and it seemed like no time at all until he was slick and stuffed with Sam and Sam was moving in him and he didn't know if there was any better way to be than in that kitchen with Sam in that moment.

-

"Banner." Sam stared at him and Steve couldn't fault him for it. Saying another person's name while basking in the afterglow and lying in their tangled sheets wasn't something someone should do so openly, so Steve was quick to explain himself. "Dr. Banner," Steve went on as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Strange couldn't answer any of my questions about the serum being passed on to the baby, but Banner might be able to."

Sam's frown shifted from put off to thoughtful as he considered Steve's words for a moment. He was still panting a bit; his brow glistening slightly in the faint light filtering into the relatively dim room, and when he turned in order to face him properly the blankets seemed to tighten their hold on his waist. "Well are you sure you'd be comfortable with that?" he asked carefully. "Telling him about your situation and everything?"

Steve considered this for a moment as his hand drifted towards his middle. It was easier -- but not easy -- to touch his stomach and talk about it with Sam, but Steve felt a twinge of shame fill him at the idea of being open about his condition with everyone. Yet at the same time he knew that had to change, because it wasn't going away, he didn't want it to go away, and if anyone had to know it would be Bruce Banner. "I'm not exactly excited to share the news with the world," he said honestly, "but Dr. Banner's a good guy and I can trust him."

Sam nodded and shifted slightly against the tangled sheets. His breathing was starting to grow steady and he smiled even when he pressed a hand to his eyes. "You know, we are technically on our honeymoon," he reminded Steve with a sly smirk. "And since our budget doesn't exactly leave us room to hop a plane to a tropical island, I was hoping to spend the next week or so in bed as long as humanly possible."

Steve chuckled and lowered himself down beside him. "Well, I'm not saying we get up and head to Manhattan right now. I was thinking more along the lines of taking a train into the city on Monday to meet with Bruce myself."

"You don't want me to come with you?" he asked and Steve wasn't really surprised that Sam was startled and possibly a bit hurt by this. The two of them had been doing so much together so often now that taking on any task alone almost seemed strange, but Steve wanted to see Banner on his own because for some reason the idea of Sam coming along made him feel even more uncomfortable. Sam didn't push the matter and Steve was grateful for that. He just nodded in acceptance and tugged at the blankets until they were less constricting. "Well, Monday's a while away. What could we possibly do until then?"

Steve smiled and pressed himself as close against Sam as he could. "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

\--

Bruce hadn't known that the serum could do this and Steve wasn't the least bit surprised by that. Other than the obvious changes to his physique, his strength, and stamina, there seemed to be a general lack of knowledge on just what effects the serum had on him by all those who had worked to develop it despite the extensive tests performed before and after the injections. Steve hadn't even been aware of his accelerated healing until after beginning active duty. Yet until now everything else had made sense, all the little features -- speed, endurance, metabolism -- had served some sort of practical purpose, but not this. This didn't seem the least bit practical.

"My best guess," Bruce said reasonably as he made sure to look at Steve, not his stomach, "they wanted a cheap and easy way to create more super soldiers."

Steve didn't know just how cheap or easy any of this would be, because during his last visit with Strange the doctor had run them the numbers and Steve had nearly thrown up at the prospective cost of having a child in the twenty first century. "So you _do_ think that the serum will express itself in the baby?"

Bruce shrugged. "It's very possible," he said honestly, "but I don't think I'll know for certain until after the baby's born."

He was disheartened to say the least by this news, because he had been hoping for a definitive answer from Banner, instead he was met with more uncertainty. So far the only good news he had found that day was that Stark was out of town on business and Steve would be able to keep this a secret from him a bit longer. Although likely not much longer since they were in Stark's building with all his fancy equipment and it would be very easy for him to discover just what was going on.

Bruce shifted a bit closer, his eyes growing more critical as he studied Steve's features. "Are you feeling okay, Steve?" he asked in a voice that was more curious than concerned. "You look a bit..."

"Yeah," he cut in as he rubbed his flushed face with the palm of his hand. The familiar roll was starting to build in the pit of his stomach as his head grew a touch light. "Yeah, I get like that sometimes when I don't eat for a while."

Bruce nodded and led Steve away from the lounge and into the kitchen where Bruce offered him a bottle of water and a bag of dried vegetable chips. "So you've been experiencing morning sickness?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it morning sickness when it tends to last all day."

Bruce's whole demeanor shifted from its usual meek and timid nature to something more thoughtful as his intrigue grew. "Any food aversions?"

"Well, I wasn't too keen on meat for a while, but a few weeks ago I started craving it along with fruits and vegetables."

"Fatigue?"

He nodded. "Yeah, some days are better than others, but overall I tend to turn in earlier than I used to."

Bruce chuckled and rubbed at his forearm. "Well it sounds like you're having a fairly typical pregnancy... which, I have to say, is kinda odd."

"It should be easier, shouldn't it?" Steve frowned because he had considered that before as well. "Why create a perfect body that can still be effect by something like this?"

"It could be a simple design flaw," Bruce reasoned. "After all, the serum you took wasn't completely perfect. Nothing ever is." He was quiet for a moment, his hands wringing together as he considered something. "Uh, would you mind if I, um, took a look?"

Steve did his best not to flush and pushed aside the thought of Bruce as anything other than just another doctor. He nodded, put his food away, and Bruce led Steve onto the elevator where they rode to the medical wing three floors down. It was a strange transition, moving from the comfortable living area that Stark had likely built and furnished just for Bruce and into the medical facility that looked just like every other hospital only with a brighter, crisper edge to it. 

"I'm not really that kind of doctor," Bruce confessed as he led Steve into an exam room that was much larger and luminous than the one Strange had examined him in. He flashed him a wry sort of smile. "But I sort of honed my skills in this area during my time abroad."

He knew exactly what Bruce was referring to and had a feeling that even if his skills were honed, he likely didn't have as much experience with any of this high end equipment as a specialist would. Steve un-tucked his shirt and rolled it up a bit in order to expose his stomach before lying flat on his back on top of the exam table. He flinched and did his best not to grimace as Bruce's cold careful fingers gently pressed and prodded his stomach. "How far along are you?" Bruce asked, his voice somewhat distance as he focused his attention primarily on his work.

"About ten or eleven weeks."

Bruce hummed and nodded his head ever so slightly. "That explains why you're not really showing at all," he muttered and Steve had to admit he was a bit shocked to hear that since he felt as big as a house. "Well everything feels normal, but I'd like to do a bit of blood work if you don't mind."

Steve shook his head. "No, no I don't mind. Just... whatever you feel you need to do." 

-

"Okay, next time it's my night to cook, I'll actually _cook_."

Steve managed to offer Sam a weak chuckle even though his stomach was still rolling and his head was throbbing behind his eyes. As he lay in bed with his head propped up by a dozen or so pillows, a damp cloth pressed over his eyes, and a strategically placed waste bin between the mattress and the nightstand Steve suddenly regretted his decision to take the train home that same day instead of accepting Bruce's offer to spend the night. Sitting for hours on end breathing in the stuffy air from within the cabin had been enough to give him a painful migraine and his body had been pushed over the edge when he came home to find that Sam had ordered take out so greasy that the mere sight of it was enough to make Steve feel sick.

"It's alright, Sam," Steve promised when he felt the mattress dip behind him. "This isn't the first time I've been sick from delivery food."

"Yeah, but I'm sure you at least got to try it first," Sam teased. Steve felt the fingers weave into his hair, pressing against his scalp in a soothing manner that made the dull thud behind his eyes ease up ever so slightly. "You didn't finish telling me about your check up with Dr. Hulk. How'd it go?"

Steve shrugged, because there really wasn't much to report, nothing drastically different from what Strange had told them a few days ago. "Still healthy," he said at length. "Although Bruce does think that there's a good chance that the serum will express itself in the baby, but he can't say for sure."

The bed rocked over so slightly in response to Sam's nod. "It's always good to have a second opinion I guess," he reasoned. 

"He's going to look into it though," Steve went on. "He took some blood samples and he'll look over them."

Sam's fingers stilled against him. "Hey, listen Steve, I know you trust Banner and everything, but I don't want you turning yourself into a human guinea pig, okay?"

Steve shifted carefully, pushing the damp fabric off of his eyes and further into his hairline in order to properly face Sam whose face was pinched with concern. "I just need to make sure everything's okay," Steve reasoned gently. "If there's something wrong or can go wrong, I need to know now."

"I get that, Steve, but I..." He frowned and shook his head, pulling away ever so slightly in order to lay flat against the mattress. "I just don't like the idea of you being poked and prodded all the time, you know? I don't want you turning yourself into a science project."

He smiled wryly as he settled back against the fluffed up pillows beside Sam. "I kinda am a science project."

"No you're not," Sam said instantly then reconsidered. "Well, yeah, maybe you were, but not anymore. You're a person first, remember that."

Steve did remember, but he also knew that the number of people who needed him had just gone up and if being turned into a living pincushion was what he needed to do in order to keep that one person safe than he would do it. He didn't say anything to Sam, however, just nodded and closed his eyes against the dim lights of the bedroom that somehow still managed to sting and tried his best to drift off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**November**

By mid-November Steve had cleared the hurdle and he was so grateful to have spare energy again that he didn't even mind that the only way to go jogging in Sam's neighborhood would be to don a hat, sunglasses, and an oversized sweater. It felt good to build up a sweat again from something other than being sick. His body was still shifting in different ways -- like how his clothes were starting to get frustratingly tight and even the act of taking his wedding ring on and off was quickly becoming a chore -- but Steve held on to the new found burst of energy like a life line.

When he got back to the house he toweled himself off and made a shake that was mostly spinach and kale before starting breakfast for him and Sam. Steve liked to cook, liked to feel useful, but when it came to the bigger meals he would usually yield to Sam's culinary experience, because there were still a few things about modern cooking that he needed to learn. Apparently there was a big debate about eggs and so many different kinds of milk and this whole _thing_ about something called gluten. 

Sam was still finishing up his own laps around the block and Steve thought it was only fair to greet him with a hot breakfast after leaving him in the dust during their run. The batter had just been up mixed and poured into the waffle iron when Sam came trotting in, sweat pouring down his flushed face as he made his way straight for the refrigerator. Steve watched from the corner of his eyes as he grabbed a bottle of orange juice and poured himself a tall glass before chugging it all in two gulps. When he was cooled down enough to focus on something other than regulating his breathing, Sam's eyes flickered over to him and a long lazy smile spread across his exhausted features. 

"Waffles and bacon? You trying to undo all my hard work with one meal Rogers?"

"Does that mean I should eighty-six the eggs?" Steve asked, already whisking the freshly cracked yolks in preparation for their date with the heated pan.

Sam shrugged playfully and put the juice away. "Well, since you're already on it," Sam said after he had downed most of his second glass.

The eggs were in the skillet and sizzling when Sam stepped out of the kitchen to quickly rinse off. He came back just as soon as Steve had managed to get them nice and fluffy and went about setting the table with butter and syrup. "Coffee today?" Sam asked, already pouring himself a mug.

Steve considered the question for a moment as he portioned out the eggs and bacon alongside the waffles filling up the center of each plate. "Sure," he shrugged. "One cup won't hurt."

Sam hummed appreciatively as they sat down to eat, his eyes not only more alert but downright twinkling as he smeared butter along the perfectly shaped dents on the waffles. "Apple cinnamon?" he asked as he took in a deep whiff before eagerly cutting himself a piece. "I knew I picked right."

He hadn't meant to flinch at that, but Steve did and it was fortunate that Sam was too focused on his meal to notice. Sam hadn't picked him, Steve had fallen at his feet and now they were shackled together indefinitely. He frowned and clenched his fist slowly, feeling the gold band around his finger all the more acutely with the gesture. Steve loved Sam, there was no doubt in his mind about that, but there were times when he would sit back and remember that they hadn't even known each other a year and were not only living together, but married with a baby on the way. The thought of it made him feel a bit dizzy at times and Steve had to wonder if the two of them would have been anywhere near this level of commitment if it hadn't been for the baby.

It was a fight to keep himself from pressing his thumb to his ring finger, but once the thoughts slipped in that area, they couldn't be pried away. At length Sam caught the way that he was drifting and put down his fork and knife long enough to reach over and press a hand on top of Steve's fidgeting finger. "Where you going, Rogers?"

Steve looked up at Sam, his lips curled into a warm little grin and patience shining in his eyes. It was tempting to ask him the question that Steve wasn't sure he was ready to hear the answer to, but instead he shifted gears. "I was just thinking," he began slowly as his gaze flickered from the food cooling on his plate back to Sam's eyes. "I've been doing a lot better lately -- more energy, less vomiting -- so maybe... maybe it's time I get back out there."

A long, slow sigh escaped from Sam's nose as he thoughtfully brushed the pad of his thumb against Steve's knuckles. "I can pretty safely assume you're not talking about getting a job, right?" Sam ventured. Steve said nothing to that, but the sheepish tilt of his head was likely answer enough for Sam. "Look Steve, I love you, and it's because I love you that I have to tell you that is a really bad plan."

"I'm not saying I should pick up the shield and go back to chasing down Hydra," he put in carefully. "I meant more like getting back to searching for Bucky. I mean, he's still out there, still needs my help, and I owe it to him..."

"Steve, before you finish, I need to remind you that even if your best friend wasn't currently a brainwashed mess wandering the countryside, you are still currently at the start of the second act in a three act play. Things may be okay now, but they're going to take a hard downhill turn in the very near future."

"Maybe they won't," Steve countered. "Maybe the first trimester was just my body's way of adjusting and the rest will be okay. I mean my body was _made_ to do this while still being a super soldier. That has to mean something."

"You know, _women_ are _made_ to do this and things still happen." Sam scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand. "Look, Steve, I know it's your body and your choice, but I think that both Dr. Dracula and Dr. Hulk would agree with me on this."

Steve knew that Sam was right, but he also knew that he had lost a lot of time and distance in looking for Bucky, he knew that even when he had been sick he had thought about him, and that sitting around doing nothing was only making him feel worse. "I know you don't want me putting the baby in danger," he reasoned, "but you know that I would never let anything bad happen."

"I don't want you putting yourself in danger either," Sam sighed. "We both know that stuff can change. One day might be great, but the next day could set you back." He gave Steve's fingers a thoughtful squeeze, just firm enough to cause him to lift his gaze and look at Sam. He was concerned and a touch frustrated, but Steve could tell that Sam was doing his best to stay neutral so as not to make Steve feel as if he were being attacked. 

"Look, I'm not about to tie you down and lock all the windows and doors on you, but..." Sam frowned, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip as he took a moment to consider their options. "We can start up the manhunt from here, if you want. Maybe get back in touch with Natasha and Hill and try to figure out what sort of progress they've made."

Steve wasn't exactly thrilled with that plan, didn't really relish the idea of sitting safely tucked away at home while others did his dirty work for him, but it was a better than doing nothing. 

\--

Getting back in touch with Hill was relatively easy, although somewhat disappointing. She worked for Stark now and while Hill did have information on the lingering remains of Hydra, she was less than enthusiastic about the situation in general. As far as Hill seemed to be concerned, both Hydra and SHIELD were the past that she was doing her best to move away from. Steve couldn't really blame her, because even after everything that happened, this wasn't really her fight.

SHIELD was almost entirely dissolved and Hydra along with it. The lingering remains were even more fragmented and weakened than when Steve had checked out of the game almost two months ago. It was good to hear, but Steve couldn't help thinking that progress might have moved a bit faster with his help.

According to the intelligence Hill had been able to offer, the remaining Hydra bases that were possibly still active were located predominately on the west coast and overseas in Europe, which only marginally narrowed down Bucky's possible locations.

Natasha was less helpful because getting in touch with her had always been impossible. All the contact information Steve had for her was no longer available and he had no means of getting in touch with someone who would actually be able to contact her. He had a feeling that Natasha was likely in a place where she no longer wanted to be found and while Steve could understand and maybe even sympathize, it still meant that his attempt at rejoining the search had been placed on a firm hold only two hours after diving back in.

Outside the window the world was moving on, the days were growing shorter and crisper and Steve was stuck inside, burrowed beneath oversized sweaters and pants that still clung too tightly to his middle, because he was growing short on energy and agility once again. It was just as Sam had speculated; the spike of vigor he had experienced earlier in the month was only a fleeting thing and in no time at all he was back to spending afternoons dozing and barely fitting in time for cardio before he needed another meal.

It would have been easy to feel resentful, towards the baby and Sam, but Steve knew that wasn't fair. The baby was just along for the ride and Sam had never drawn any lines in the sand that Steve couldn't cross. In truth Steve's current isolation was self imposed, because he once again found himself in a situation where he felt very self conscious and out of place and even if Sam had extended several offers towards Steve to go down to the VA and sit in on some sessions, he didn't delight in the idea of becoming Sam's shadow.

He drummed his fingers along the wood of the desk in front of him. The idea of grabbing a pad and pencil had struck him, but just as quickly flittered away. Sketching wasn't an activity he could really throw himself into anymore. In his old apartment there had been some supplies: an easel he had purchased on clearance and wobbled due to an irregular leg he could never get perfectly straight, a bundle of canvases that had been on sale and still packaged in shrink wrap, a set of brushes and paint that spent more time in a desk drawer than out in the daylight, and a sketchpad with only a page and a half filled with half hearted line art. The easel had been reduced to splinters, the canvases punctured beyond repair, and the rest of his supplies lost in the clutter of storage. It hadn't been a great loss for him, because Steve had never really touched any of it. He had purchased those things in a half hearted attempted to fill his life with a sense of normality, but in truth "art" hadn't been a regular feature in his world since long before the ice.

Steve pushed those thoughts aside along with a bundle of other things he'd rather not dwell on and instead reached for his phone. He scrolled through his meager contact list briefly before deciding on a whim to dial Bruce's number. The phone rang three times before Banner picked up with a somewhat distracted "Hello?"

"Dr. Banner," Steve greeted, but could already tell from the hesitant note in Bruce's voice and the bit of chatter in the background that he was with someone else. "Is this a bad time?"

"Uh, no. No, just grabbing some lunch," he said distractedly. Steve was able to pick up two voices in the distance; one of them was a woman's that Steve wasn't entirely familiar with and the other was very clearly Stark. He cringed at the notion, because Bruce and Steve had an agreement to keep Tony in the dark about his situation for as long as possible. It was naive to think that either of them could hide anything from Stark for long, but they had done well to put off the inevitable and Steve wanted to prolong things as much as possible. "Listen, we're heading to the Tower now. I'll call you back then, okay?"

It took was a few minutes over an hour before Bruce called him back and Steve spent every second of it kicking himself. His poor timing had likely started the thread unraveling and it was only a matter of time before Tony's curiosity lead to him digging into just what he and Bruce were working on. He did his best not to let his panic show when he picked up his phone. 

"I've been looking over the data collected from last week's exam along with the samples you gave me," Banner informed him, his voice calm and clinical as he spoke about Steve's baby as if it were nothing more than notes on a chart. It was likely better that way. "I also contacted Strange and cross referenced all his data. So far, everything looks normal."

"So far," Steve echoed wearily, because that just wasn't good enough.

There was a slight pause during which Steve could almost hear Bruce licking his lips and running his hands through his hair as he considered his next words carefully. "Look Steve, I understand you want to keep looking into this and I think that's a good idea, but I also think we should possibly consider a few things."

Steve frowned, because he knew instantly where Bruce was headed with this. "I'm not leaving DC to move into Stark's tacky skyscraper."

Bruce chuckled. "It's not so bad when you get used to it," he said and Steve could practically hear the dry smile in his voice. "Besides Steve, taking a train here and upstate every time you want to have a meeting with me or Strange must be wearing you out. You have to start conserving your strength."

"My strength is just fine."

"Steve, you're seventeen weeks. Things may seem manageable now, but it's all going to pile up soon." There was another pause, a heavier one this time. "I also think it's time we let Tony in on this."

"No, absolutely not," he said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly and Steve was mindful to hold off for a moment before speaking again. "This isn't his area anyway. He's an engineer, not a biologist."

"Steve, his father worked on the technology that helped to create you. If we let Tony in on this-"

"We're not letting him near anything Bruce. End of discussion." A part of him felt guilty hanging up on Bruce, but a bigger part just felt drained.

\--

"Well, moving to Manhattan would probably make my mom happy," Sam reasoned as he looked over another head of lettuce that didn't quite pass inspection and was quickly passed over for another one. "And we would save a lot on gas and train tickets."

Steve frowned and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, careful not to let the fabric tear even in his frustrated state. Most of his clothes were on their last leg since they were barely able to contain his expanding middle. He was making due mostly on Sam's old clothes from back when "wearing baggy clothes was in style." All the shirts were still fairly tight across his neck and chest, but there was some give around the waist which was the most important thing. Wearing oversized clothes again almost made Steve feel like he had when he was small and used to wear his dad's old things when money got too tight for new clothes.

"I don't want to live in Stark's place," he grumbled as they moved away from the produce and over to the refrigerated shelves of fruit juice. "He has a computer that monitors every room in the building. He'll probably use it to watch us sleep just for kicks."

"Yeah, that sounds creepy," Sam chuckled as he grabbed a jug of orange juice.

Steve sighed and pulled the brim of his cap down until it touched the rim of his fake glasses. Paper thin disguises were starting to become the norm for venturing outside. "Besides, you just got your life back together. I don't want you to uproot yourself again because of me."

"Hey, I don't know if anybody ever told you this, but this whole 'being married thing' means that my life isn't just about _me_ anymore." Sam smirked and took a moment to raise his hand and flash Steve the gold band wrapped around his ring finger. "It's kinda 'our life' now, and if you feel that you really need to move to Manhattan in order to get regular checkups and keep on top of the baby's development then I think it's something we need to consider."

It likely wasn't supposed to make Steve feel worse, but somehow Sam's words weren't as comforting as he had intended them to be. They finish their shopping in relative silence, filling the cart to the brim by the time they reach the checkout lane. Steve cringed silently at the sight of their total and once again felt guilt over not pulling his weight more. Suddenly the idea of moving in with Stark seemed a bit more appealing since at least they wouldn't have to worry about paying rent and Steve had a feeling Tony would take care of their food bills without question.

He frowned at himself for even considering that. Steve had never been the type of person to take a hand out and even if Tony had more than enough to spare, it was selfish of him to think of taking advantage of another person like that.

They made their way into the parking lot and it was only then that Steve saw it, the brief flash of what looked like a metal arm and hooded eyes framed by wiry brown hair. Steve ran off without a second thought and sprinted past the rows of parked cars, straight into the late evening traffic without even realizing what he'd done, but it was only after a block or so that Steve realized he was chasing after nothing, yet the realization didn't stop his heart from racing or his head from reeling. 

Sam had probably honked his horn a good four times before Steve finally clued in and realized that he was there.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Sam asked, doing his best not to panic even as he scrambled out of the car and nearly slammed the door into a fire hydrant in his haste. "What happened man?"

It took him a minute to pull himself back entirely, but when he did he mearly pushed Sam way and straight back into the car. "It was Bucky," he told him as he slipped into the seat beside. "I saw him."

Sam's face drained, his eyes growing wide with fear and for a moment Steve thought that Sam would peel off and just go, drive straight on until there was a good three states between them and DC. He dropped his hand on top of Sam's, allowing the weight of his touch to sit for a moment as they steadied themselves. "Let's head back."

-

Neither one of them got much sleep that night. They spent most of the night in tense silence, alternately peeking out the windows and watching the door as they waited for the other shoe to drop. Bucky was watching the house, Steve could feel it and somehow he knew that Bucky wasn't planning to kill him, because if the Winter Solider wanted Captain America dead, he would have gotten him down by now. By three thirty Sam managed to shoo Steve off to bed, because even if his adrenaline was still pumping he needed to lay down and rest for a while. Steve tossed and turned for a few minutes before sleep finally found him and he ended up sleeping a solid three hours, before getting up to attempt to trade off with Sam. 

Steve had barely approached the idea of Sam getting some rest when Bucky made his appearance. He strolled up the front walkway like that was something they did and Steve pulled open the door before the knob was even in reach. Bucky's eyes were hollow against a face so pale it almost appeared sickly, yet somehow he looked better. He wasn't dressed as the Winter Soldier, his clothes had a slightly more civilian edge with the hooded sweater and dark colored pants. He had a ball cap tucked low on his head with his scraggly hair peeking out from the sides and Steve could tell right away that he wasn't the only one who had picked up the habit of wearing paper thin disguises.

For a moment the two just stared at each other, Steve thrumming with energy as he readied himself for Bucky to make a move, good or bad, while Bucky stiffened as if he were silently reconsidering his decision to come. After what felt like a full minute of silent staring, Bucky's eyes flickered ever so slightly before turning back to stay level on Steve's face. "Tell your friend to put his gun away so I can come inside."

Steve glanced to his left where Sam stood with his with his back straight and his hand hovering towards the gun tucked in his back pocket. Their eyes lock for a moment and Steve managed to give him a quick nod before signaling for Sam to put his weapon away. They stepped back to allow Bucky to enter and even in street clothes -- _modern_ street clothes -- Bucky still looked completely out of place standing in Sam's living room.

"What's this about?" Steve asked in a voice he hoped was steady and authoritative and not the quivering mess he felt inside. 

"You started following me again," Bucky told him in a voice that was flat and neutral with only a hint of his old self. "I came to tell you to stop."

They stiffened and Steve could feel the way Sam was likely shooting glances towards the spot on the coffee table where he had laid out his gun. It was closer to him than it was to Bucky, but Steve had a feeling it could be easily snatched away before Sam could tip forward towards it. Yet even if Sam felt more on edge with that response, Steve couldn't help feeling relieved, because this had to be a sign of Bucky emerging out from within the Soldier. He was careful to keep that hopeful note at bay when he asked "Why?"

"It's not good for you," he told him and Steve caught the way Bucky's eyes drifted downward even before he could add, "not good for the baby."

Steve's hand instantly went to his middle and even if it was the wrong move, it was a gesture he has done so often now that it was almost second nature. His gaze briefly flickered over to Sam and Steve could tell that he wanted to hold his hand almost as much as Steve wanted to reach for his. "How did you know about that?"

Bucky's face was still neutral, his eyes still blank as his shoulder shrugged in what almost looked like an imitation of a human gesture. "I've been following you for a while. You've been sick for a while, visiting doctors..."

"Did you follow me into Manhattan?" Steve asked. He guessed from Bucky's pointed lack of an answer that Stark's tower was likely the only place he hadn't been able to easily infiltrate. Another moment passed between the three and the temptation to grasp Sam's hand was so present that it was almost painful. "Can you give us a moment alone, Sam?"

Steve could feel Sam's eyes on him, his gaze likely calm but internally he must have been screaming, yet eventually Sam retreated back into the other end of the house. No doors closed, a clear sign that Sam was now unseen, but still near and ready and Steve hoped that Bucky would understand that this was as private as they would get.

It took a second, but Bucky eventually seemed understand the situation well enough to sit, his eyes never leaving Steve's face as he lowered himself onto an ottoman, back straight and arms stiff. Steve was not nearly as steady as he followed Bucky's lead, taking a seat on the couch across from him. If Bucky were planning to attack, now would be the perfect time for it, because Steve was off balanced from the weight gain and lack of sleep and Steve had to admit that he was a bit nervous when Bucky's eyes drifted towards Sam's gun.

"Do you remember me?" he asked at length and for a moment he could see something in Bucky's eyes change. "Do you remember me from... before?"

"Some," he offered quietly. His eyes were distant as he stared through Steve as if it were easier to talk without actually looking at him. "I remember you smaller... sick. It was winter. You were in bed for days, couldn't do more than cough and sweat. We thought you were going to die; I was ready for you to go. You didn't."

It was strange that Bucky had remembered that because Steve didn't, or couldn't, but he knew that there had been a time that he had almost died from pneumonia and Bucky had spent weeks at his side after he had recovered. A small smile pulled at his lips as Steve's hand once again fell to his waist and Bucky stiffened in what looked like muted horror at the gesture. "Bucky..."

"Don't," he warned and Steve had to admit he felt as if he had been cut by the word. "I'm not here to stay with you. I came to get you off my trail, that's all."

"You're not staying?" he asked, because even if it was a dumb question it was what Steve needed to say.

"I have things to do."

"Hydra?" 

Bucky tipped his head once in an oddly robotic nod. "Someone has to clean up their mess while you're away."

"So that's what you plan to do? Keep killing for the sake of killing?"

Another nod. "It's what I'm good at."

"Bucky stop. Just stop!" It was hard for Steve to reel himself in, but he managed. The last thing he wanted to do was get too riled and set Bucky off. He gritted his teeth and gripped the fabric of his shirt until he practically felt the threads begin to tear. The gesture made Bucky stiffen, but Steve had a feeling that it was more for where his hands were, not what they were doing. "Don't talk about yourself that way. You're a person."

He recalled his conversation with Sam, when Steve had called himself a science experiment and Sam had practically unloaded on him. He understood how Sam must have felt then, but he also didn't imagine that he had looked as cold and indifferently at Sam the way Bucky did. "I know what I am."

Bucky stood abruptly and Steve stood with him. He ended up swaying ever so slightly, but Bucky's eyes were sharp enough to catch the gesture and grip Steve's arm tightly in his metal hand. Steve knew what would happen next, he knew that Bucky would leave with every intention to never come back and even if Steve wanted him to stay, a bigger part of him knew that Bucky couldn't. He wasn't together yet, wasn't likely to be any time soon, and given his current situation Steve was in no place to help him.

He blinked a few times to dispel the growing fog behind his eyes as he did his best to fight off the urge to reach over and touch Bucky's good arm. "Will you come back?" he asked thickly. "After the baby's born?"

Bucky's face crinkled with confusion and once again something settled behind his eyes, but it stayed a fraction of a second longer this time. "You'd want me around?"

He nodded, because even now he had images in his head of Bucky being right there with them. In Steve's mind they would be a family; he'd be Uncle Bucky and the baby would grow up knowing him, look in his eyes and see someone and Bucky would look back and be himself. It could never work, but he could hold on to the idea. "Yeah," he admitted at last. "Yeah, I want that."

Steve was shocked when Bucky stepped forward and kissed him. It was nothing that he had wanted, because this wasn't who they were. He could tell from Bucky's tense posture and the way he barely moved his lips that he wasn't much invested either and had likely misread the moment and assumed that this was what Steve had wanted. He carefully raised his hands to Bucky's shoulders in an attempt to push away without shocking him, but Bucky stepped back before Steve's palms could even touch his chest. Bucky looked at him a moment longer before turning on his heels and leaving.

Sam came back the second the door closed. When he came to stand by Steve's side he instantly found himself resting against Sam's sturdy weight. "That could have gone better," Sam muttered as he used one hand to run his fingers through Steve's short hair.

Steve only managed a weak "Yeah" before he began to cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**December**

They moved in with Stark the week after Thanksgiving, because after the incident with Bucky, Sam and Steve agreed that living out in the open likely wasn't their best option. Steve, however, still wasn't thrilled by the idea of living in the Tower, but resigned himself to grit his teeth and took his ribbing as best as he could manage. He was nineteen weeks by the time Stark actually saw him in order to hand off the keys and make the move official and Steve's stomach was starting to become too full and hard to be disguised even beneath dark layers and baggy material. Steve quietly cursed the mild weather and the fact that Sam had actually allowed Stark to hire movers for them, because at least if he were moving boxes he wouldn't have to stand for Tony's far too gleeful brown eyes roaming across the taught fabric of his shirt.

"Wow, I mean just, wow!" Tony stammered in a way that he reasoned was supposed to be flattering as Steve set himself heavily down on the padded bar stool. The mere act of standing was starting to become tiring, but Steve was still irritated that Stark had led them to a bar of all places for this. A part of him wondered if Tony was actually going to offer to pour him a drink just to have Steve refuse it. Sam's hand clasped Steve's shoulder and the small gesture was enough to cause Stark's gaze to tear itself away from Steve. "You, Sam Wilson, do good work."

"I really hope you're talking about my skills in the air," Sam said with a quirk of his brow and Steve was quick to place a grateful hand on top of his.

"Well yeah, I saw some video of those stunts you pulled back in DC. I could fix those wings up for you, by the way, if you're interested." Even as Stark continued to rambled off to Sam, Steve could still feel his gaze drifting back down to him. It made Steve feel uncomfortable and raw and he desperately wanted to grab their keys and go hide among their boxes in the apartment that Steve was adamantly calling "temporary" no matter who insisted otherwise. "I still can't get over this. You're gone for two years and this is what happens? You jump into bed with the first guy you meet and get knocked up! That is just incredibly reckless of you. Tell me Steve, do you even know how to use a condom?"

Stark began muttering to himself and looking around for something and Steve silently prayed that he wasn't about to give a practical demonstration on proper safe sex practices. Whatever twisted lecture Stark had intended to give was interrupted when a woman in a business suit stepped off the elevator. She was dainty yet tall with strawberry blonde hair and bright eyes. Steve shifted until his lower half was completely obscured by the wet bar, but he could tell by the way the woman's eyes are pointed _not_ looking in that direction that she already knew.

"Okay Tony, that's enough," she chided in a tone that was surprisingly business like yet seemed to get the point across as Stark only seemed to smirk and step away when she stood beside him. It was then that Steve recognized her voice as the one he had heard in the background of his call with Bruce earlier last month and realized that this was Pepper Potts, the woman who ran Stark's company. She turned and offered Steve a very pleasant smile that he instantly found himself returning. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said, offering him her hand. Her grip is surprisingly firm given her size and he's pleased that her smile and gesture are just as polite when she turns to Sam. "I’m Pepper Potts, Tony's business partner. Don't worry; I’ll be sure to make certain that you have all the privacy you'll need during your stay."

She had their keys in her hands, Steve could see the brief flash of metal twinkling between the slips of her thin fingers, and it would have been so easy for her to just drop them on the shiny surface of the bar and allow Sam and Steve to be on their way. Yet Stark likely realized this as well since he was quick to wrap his hand around her and gently steer Pepper away. "Hold on Pep, check out Cap's baby bump."

Steve's first instinct was to flinch and duck away when Tony guided Pepper around to his side of the bar, but he was aware that this was exactly what Stark wanted him to do and instead arched his back and stared bitterly up at Tony while Pepper rolled her eyes and tugged her hand away. They both manage to utter a very exasperated "Tony" when Steve suddenly felt something.

The surprised groan that escaped him was sharp enough for everyone to hear. His hands few up to cradle his stomach while Sam's firmly gripped at his side. Tony and Pepper stiffened in concern and Steve felt it again. It wasn't painful, but strange an almost sort of fluttering jerk from the inside that he had never experienced before. His heart was pounding a bit and it took Steve a moment to realize the others had been bombarding him with fretful questions the entire time he had been gazing at his own stomach.

"It's nothing," he said, then instantly reconsidered because no one would believe he would gasp like that for nothing. "I felt something." Right as he said that it happened again and Steve quickly began to understand. "I think it was the baby."

"What! Really?" Even without looking directly at him Steve could tell that Sam was smiling from ear to ear as his large hand pressed itself down on top of Steve's stomach just as Stark's hand moved in to cradle a little lower. Steve was not quite large enough for four sets of hands to fit comfortably along his abdomen, so he moved his own away to allow the others a chance to feel only to have them frown in disappointment when seemingly nothing happened. "I don't feel anything," Sam noted dejected and Stark practically pouted as he pressed his hand harder into Steve's side as another flutter rippled through him.

"It was right there," he said instantly only to be hit with more movement. "And there!" He frowned over at Sam. "You don't feel that?"

Sam shook his head and Tony huffed. "Well that was disappointing."

"Tony stop," Pepper chided in a voice that was trapped somewhere between a sigh and a squeal that was not at all fitting of the CEO of a former weapons manufacturer as her eyes turned remarkably glassy with joy. "We were part of a moment." 

-

It was only much later that the realization of it all hit him, really hit him and Steve was suddenly overcome with the powerful urge to smack his own head against something hard and solid. He didn't of course, because he was currently lying flat on his back on top of a mattress that they really should have gotten to work assembling instead of resting on. Sam was hovering above him making Steve far too reluctant to move, although he did groan and press a frustrated palm to his brow. "I'm going to have a baby in Tony Stark's living room," he groused.

Sam chuckled and pulled his lips away from where they had been placing tender kisses and loving nips against the swell of Steve's stomach. "Correction: you are going to have a baby in the medical facility within Tony Stark's building. Totally different."

"Still incredibly weird," he groaned as Sam's mouth returned to the one patch of skin he had yet to suckle on. "Howard Stark's son is my landlord and I'm having a baby under his roof. And I'm married to a man and I have Dracula and the Hulk as my obstetricians." The hand on his face was soon joined by the other as he chuckled into his palms. "Jesus! All this from enlisting in the Army."

Sam's lips were soon replaced by the palm of his warm hand and Steve enjoyed the attention almost as much as the baby seemed to. "Not bad for a skinny little kid from Brooklyn," he smirked teasingly.

He pulled his hands away from his face and smiled at Sam, crooking a finger in a silent gesture for him to come closer. Sam did so eagerly, his grin growing wider and his eyes nearly twinkling as he crawled across the mattress until he was looking down at Steve with open hunger. He tipped his head up and kissed Sam, feeling him groan in pleasure like kissing Steve was the best thing in the world. In that moment Steve had to wonder just what his former self would have thought of all this. What would it have been like for the frail little Steve Rogers that had tried to sneak into recruitment offices a dozen times to see himself go from big and muscular to full and round, to see himself kissing a handsome black man and wearing his ring on his finger. He imagined his head would have imploded.

Sam pulled back to press his mouth to Steve's throat, sucking down with his determined lips in another attempt at leaving a deep bruise along Steve's collarbone. They never lasted long, but Sam kept trying and Steve loved that about him. "Are you still going to be into me?" Steve moaned as he ran his hands down Sam's smooth back. "When I'm not like this... do you think you'll still find me attractive when I'm all gross and muscular again?"

The teasing tone didn't escape Sam's notice and he had to pull away a bit in order to laugh against Steve's shoulder. "Baby I'll love you whether you're big like this or a skinny little twig like you were and everything in between," Sam said. 

He was teasing, but Steve still wanted to believe him. He briefly wondered if it would be wrong to ask Sam something that had been bothering him for a while, if it would ruin the moment to ask the question that he couldn't put out of his head. "Sam?" he began hesitantly and then faltered when Sam's eyes meet his. He kissed him quickly instead and decided to save the question for another night. "Do you think you can get some lotion?" he asked in order to cover his tracks. "My skin's feeling kinda dry."

Sam hummed and gave his lip a quick peck. "Sure thing baby," he nearly purred before rolling off of the mattress and onto the hardwood of the floor.

"Sam?" he called again just before Sam could reach the door. He lifted himself onto his elbows in order to get a better look at Sam's frame clad in only a pair of boxers as he padded barefoot across the floor. Sam looked back and Steve offered him a grin that was both sincere and apologetic. "Do you think you could grab me something to eat too?"

Sam ducked his head and laughed as he leaned his weight against the doorframe. "Sure baby. What are you in the mood for?"

"If I say chocolate, you have to promise not to turn it into an innuendo."

\--

On Christmas Eve, Steve found himself unable to fall asleep, which was fairly ironic since he had never really cared about Christmas. He reasoned that it was more a result of his own upbringing than the shift in modern celebrations, but the holiday had never been a significant event for him. In his youth Christmas had been mainly marked by attending early morning Mass with his mother to pray for good health in the new year and receiving presents that were strictly practical but well appreciated.

The Twenty First Century, however, was obsessed with Christmas particularly in New York it seemed. There were Santa Clauses on every corner, a tree in every store, and all the buildings and street signs were decorated with twinkling lights. In some ways it could be seen as charming, in others distracting, but Steve just couldn't get into it even if this was his first Christmas in a long time as part of a family. Steve wanted to be happy for Sam, because Sam loved Christmas, his entire family it seemed was crazy about it and Darlene couldn't wait to have the two of them spend the entire day with her. It was only fair since they had skipped out on Thanksgiving, but somehow Steve was still not looking forward to waking up early to go to church and then spend the next twelve hours or so dodging questions from Sam's relatives as to why he looked so much rounder than before.

Thankfully, Stark didn't seem to have much of a taste for Christmas and Steve had a feeling that had everything to do with the mess Tony had found himself in last year. There was one sad little tree in the Tower's lobby and garland wrapped around a few of the pillars in the office areas, but that was the extent of holiday decor to be found within the building. By the time the first real snow fall of the month hit, Stark had booked himself and Pepper a trip to the tropics that would keep them both out of the city until the sixth of January. Tony had extended a half hearted invitation to everyone currently living in the Tower to join them, but Sam and Steve didn't hesitate to decline. ("I doubt my mom would like it if I moved back in town just to ditch her at Christmas," Sam reasoned.)

It was almost two in the morning, well into Christmas Day proper, when Steve decided he had enough of trying to sleep. Sam had fallen out fairly quickly at eleven thirty and his body was still and calm on his end of the bed. It was fairly warm in the apartment, but Sam had the blanket tucked under his chin, fingers limply clutching the fabric in his fists as his slack lips let out steady puffs of breath against the pillow case. The urge to kiss the stubble on his cheek was tempting, but Steve reasoned that at least one of them should get a full night's rest. He slipped out of bed and carefully tip toed into the closet in order to grab a jacket and a pair of sneakers. The Tower was virtually empty and Steve felt that this was the perfect opportunity to spread his legs since lying in bed was proving pointless. In the kitchen he found a scrap of paper and a pen which he used to write a note just in case Sam woke before he could head back. He left the note next to the night stand where Sam might find it and then stuffed his cell phone and keys into his jacket pocket before silently slipping out the front door and towards the elevator.

Two floors up was a common area with a television screen large enough to be in a movie theater, a fully stocked bar, three large bookshelves with a wealth of literature, and an impressively long pool table. He rode the car to that floor in the hopes that it would be deserted. He was mildly disappointed when the door slid open to reveal Bruce sitting on the suede sofa in front of the plasma screen watching a movie. The ding of the elevator was too loud in the stillness of the night for Bruce not to notice and Steve found himself with no other choice but to step inside.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" Steve said by way of greeting as he walked over to the couch and took a seat on the opposite end. 

Bruce shrugged, the light on the television screen illuminating his wry smile and the bags under his eyes. "I actually haven't gotten around to getting in bed just yet," he admitted. There was a glass of eggnog gripped loosely in his hands and a carton along with two clean glasses sitting on the table in front of them. Bruce nodded towards the drinks. "Want some? It's non-alcoholic."

He found that hard to believe considering where they were and even after pouring himself a glass, Steve took a discrete sniff when Banner wasn't looking. It smelled clean, but when he took a tentative sip Steve was disappointed by the taste. Just like everything else in the Twenty First Century, it didn't quite have the right flavor. "What are you watching?"

"It's a Wonderful Life. Have you seen it?" Steve shook his head as the scene opened on what appeared to be a school dance. A look flashed across Bruce's face as he shifted against the couch cushions. "You might not want to watch then. It's kind of a downer."

Steve frowned at that, because he couldn't imagine a movie with that sort of title being sad. The characters on screen continued to laugh and dance around as if to intentionally contradict Bruce's well intended warning. Steve knew Bruce well enough to know that he wouldn't try to mislead him, but he still shrugged and settled in to watch the scene play out. They watched as Jimmy Stewart went on the marry Donna Reed, have children and run his father's company while the other characters moved on to bigger things. They saw the country enter the war and Stewart shoulder the burden of having to guide the town out of financial ruin while his brother went overseas to fight for the country. By the time the building and loan was near the brink of being ruined, Steve began to understand Bruce's warning. His stomach grew tight when Stewart began spiraling into despair and when he came home drunk and distraught, Steve noticed that Banner had gotten awkwardly stone faced. He decided then was the best time to change the subject.

"So, this is probably a strange thing to ask," he said, pulling Bruce's attention away from the screen, "but Stark's chest..."

Bruce was nodding before Steve could even finish his question. "Yeah. Yeah, he had the arch reactor removed last year."

He frowned at that. "I didn't think he could do that."

Bruce shrugged and began flipping stations and Steve realized for the first time that they had not been watching a blu-ray. "He found doctors skilled enough to remove the shrapnel from his chest."

Steve was tempted to ask what Stark's chest looked like now that the reactor was gone, but he decided he didn't want to know even if the image of Tony running around with a giant gaping hole in his sternum wouldn't escape from his mind's eye.

"How's Sam settling in?" Bruce asked and Steve had to admit he was a bit caught off guard by the question. It was the first time Bruce had bothered to ask him about his marriage and Steve had a feeling that Banner, along with everyone else to some degree, was still a bit shaken by the idea that he had a husband.

"Good, I guess," Steve said honestly. "Although, I think he's getting a little restless, not having a job and all."

"It'll probably get a bit worse after the holidays," Bruce chuckled. "Maybe Tony could find him something to do."

Steve frowned at that. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of them being even more permanently entangled in Stark's world. "I don't know. Honestly, I'm not really sure just how long we'll be sticking around." He sighed and rested his hands on his stomach. The baby was sleeping, somehow he could tell, and he rewarded it with a few pats to his stomach. "I want to move out as soon as the baby's born, but I'm not sure if we'll be moving back to DC or sticking around Manhattan or even one of the outer boroughs."

"You could always try upstate," Bruce offered.

He nodded. "I'll consider that."

Steve sighed and spread out his fingers against the hard swell of his stomach as the light from the screen flickered on in front of them. He was getting so big that his fingers could stretch out comfortably and in just a few months he'd be able to use his belly as a drink holder. Something that wasn't the baby stirred inside of him at the sudden thought that it may be a very long time before he could even fit into his uniform again. He huffed quietly at that.

"Last Christmas I did work for Toys for Tots," he murmured into the relative dark. The television hadn't really settled on a particular station, but the rate at which Bruce was shifting channels was starting to slow a touch. "I visited homeless shelters and orphanages, handing out food and toys to the less fortunate. This year I'm hiding in an ivory tower with a stadium sized television and a belly the size of a basketball."

"Don't beat yourself up too much over it, Steve. This has been a strange couple of years for everyone."

Despite the fact that Bruce wasn't actually looking in his direction, Steve found himself overcome with the urge to nod, although "strange" didn't seem quite strong enough of a word to really encapsulate everything that had transpired.

It was nearly half past four when Steve felt his eyes begin to droop and he decided that now would be a good time to turn in and get as much sleep as he could before waking up for church. He wished Bruce a Merry Christmas before heading for the elevator and back to bed.

\--

Darlene's bedroom was nothing like his mother's had been, but everything about it felt eerily familiar. Their old apartment had been smaller than Darlene's one bedroom flat. On the outside they were the same, with rough brick exteriors and stone stoops that had seen many feet go by, but inside they were night and day. Their old place had consisted of creaky floorboards, cheap wallpaper that peeled along the edges, and windows with glass that always seemed fogged by dirt no matter how often it was wiped clean. Darlene's apartment was on the older side, but still new to him. Her place had carpeted floor, with cream colored walls, and windows that were freshly changed during the summer. Their apartment had been all but bare save for the most necessary pieces and while Darlene Wilson was by no means a wealthy woman she still managed to put as much of her personality and warmth throughout every inch of her home.

Despite being separated by style and time their bedrooms were the same, Darlene's and his mother's, both comfortable and womanly and warm. The air was tinged with a pleasant hint of perfume and while Darlene's bed was loaded with more pillows than Steve's mother had ever owned, the quilt draped across the bed was vibrant and inviting just as his mother's had been. It was probably the familiar setting that had caused Steve to drift off the moment his cheek pressed against one of the many soft pillows. 

Or perhaps it was the fact that he had only managed to get three hours of sleep the previous night. It was hard to determine which the more likely cause was when his mind was all but blank from exhaustion.

The dip in the mattress beside him was enough to pull him out of unconsciousness even before Sam's hand pressed itself against his shoulder. Sam's palm was a warm weight on his side, his thick fingers gripping firm against the fabric of his sleeve. Steve hummed as Sam's lips pressed against the back of his neck, right below the edge of his scalp and Steve actually felt the baby squirm inside of him in response to the chill running up his spine.

"Hey," Sam whispered his breath warm against his skin. "Sorry to wake you, but it's almost six. We gotta head over to Aunt Rita's soon."

Steve groaned and rolled onto his back, blinking against the dim light filtering into the bedroom from the hall. "Did I really just sleep through most of Christmas?" he yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"It's okay," Sam assured him. He was lying across the mattress beside him, head propped up in one hand as his elbow pressed into the nest of pillows on the headboard and his toes flexing within the thick wool socks on his feet. "When my mom tells you to get your ass to bed, you go to bed." He bent down and pressed a kiss to Steve's shoulder through the fabric of his sweater. "By the way, she boiled another batch of beets for you. Wants you to finish them before we head out."

Again Steve groaned, feeling even more sluggish and weak as he slumped back against the bed. Darlene had been all but force feeding him plate after plate of boiled, baked, and roasted beetroot since they had entered the apartment that morning. Despite the fact that Steve had already put on a good nine pounds, Darlene still seemed convinced that he didn't have enough nutrition and insisted that he start eating even more greens and begin a vitamin regiment. Apparently the entire concept of the super soldier serum and its effects on his body was lost on her. 

"Sam, I love your mother, but she's driving me crazy."

"And _that_ is why we're living with Stark and not her," Sam teased as he offered Steve's side a pointed poke.

Steve chuckled as he sat up, easing himself into a careful sitting position. Steve was well aware that nine pounds in the grand scheme of things wasn't very much, especially when he would likely put on nearly three times as much by the end of his pregnancy, but having all that new weight resting awkwardly on his abdomen made every single movement and gesture so much more difficult. "I don't think I can do this, Sam," Steve groused as he placed a hand on top of his stomach. The dark colors of the sweater did nothing to hide the way his middle now protruded in such an oddly round manner. "Everybody's gonna know."

"Whose gonna know that Captain America's pregnant?" Sam shrugged as he sat up in order to place a hand on top of Steve's and again the baby jittered inside of him. Steve had a feeling the baby always knew when Sam was near, because it seemed to squirm and move about the most whenever they touched. "Besides, you're bigger, but you're not that big. If you just keep the jacket on..." His words trailed off when it became obvious that Steve wasn't taking much comfort from them. A thoughtful frown settled across Sam's features as he slung an arm around Steve's broad shoulders. "Look, if you really don't want to do this, you don't have to. We'll just stay here and you can sleep for a little bit longer."

Steve frowned, shaking his head at the tempting offer. "I don't want to put a wedge between you and your family, Sam. You already missed out on Thanksgiving because of me."

"It was worth it to spend a day at home watching you try to put away a twelve pound bird all by yourself." 

He smiled at the memory of their simple dinner at home. The whole world had seemed to be ordering everyone to gather for a big complicated dinner with their families while they were content to fix a simple meal for a family of two. It had been nice to spend the evening with just Sam, but it was also nice to spend Christmas morning with Darlene at church. Sam had enjoyed it as well, even if he had taken it upon himself to fuss on their way to and from the service (mainly because Darlene had made them late by insisting that Steve polish off his first serving of beetroot before they went, but also because ducking out of the service before anyone could recognize the tall blond in the sunglasses as Captain America was an ordeal in itself).

Sam shifted slightly, leaning over to the edge of the bed in order to pull out something that had been resting on top of the nightstand. "Merry Christmas," Sam said pleasantly as he offered Steve a red package with little white snowflakes decorating its shiny surface.

"Really Sam? Another gift?" Steve chuckled as Sam grinned teasingly over at him. "You're really making me feel lousy for only getting you a pair of gym shorts and a crummy watch."

"Hey, I like my watch," Sam said with mock offense as he raised his arm and pointed to his wrist. The watch was simple with its leather strap, cream colored face, and thin black hands. It was probably more Steve's style than Sam's but Steve had never been particularly good at giving gifts. "Even though I half expected you to get me something more stars and stripes."

"Nah, that's not me. It's a little too..."

"Obvious?"

"I was gonna say 'possessive', but yeah, that too."

"Says the guy still wearing the junky old watch _I_ gave him," Sam countered as he pointed to the old leather straps still clinging to Steve's wrists.

He smiled and rubbed at the watch and its scratched face. "Hey, it'll be nice to have when my fingers get too fat to wear my ring."

Sam rolled his eyes at him. "Okay, fine. Now get to unwrapping, man! You're making a guy feel anxious."

Steve chuckled as he peeled away at the glossy paper while Sam watched him, smiling but somewhat hesitant as he studied Steve's face for a reaction. When his eyes landed on the leather binding and thick papers it hit him like a sharp jab that Sam likely hadn't intend and that Steve didn't want to feel. "Sam..."

"It can be a sketchbook or a notebook," Sam said as he shifted beside him. His voice was patient and understanding and Steve instantly realized why Sam chose to give this to him in private and not in front of Darlene. "Whatever you want it to be. I just thought it would be good for you to have something..."

His insides felt heavy as pushed way the last bit of gift wrap clinging to the cover. The book was average size with at least a hundred pages and a good hard cover that would resist a lot of wear and tear. He flicked open the pad to look at the pages. They were blank and off white and as he flipped through them Steve was disheartened but not surprised to see nothing. He could still remember what it used to feel like to get a new sketchbook, the excitement that came with the prospect of fresh pages and all the images that would dance in front of his eyes. Now there was nothing, just emptiness.

"I can't... this isn't me, Sam," he whispered apologetically as he offered the book back to Sam. "This isn't me. It's not who I am anymore."

Steve could tell from the look in Sam's eyes that he had expected this sort of reaction. He didn't frown or even sigh, but when his hand dropped on top of Steve's it was with a bit more force than usual as Sam pushed the sketchbook back to him. "Look Steve, I'm not trying to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. If you don't want to draw or sketch or whatever you wanna call it, that's fine, but I also know you've got a lot of things going on in your head, things you're not comfortable talking with me about. That's okay too, but it might help you a bit to put it somewhere." His knuckles offered the flat glossy binding a pointed rap before he released his hold. "This could help."

Steve nodded even though a part of him still felt tense from the weight of the book resting in his grasp. This was about Bucky, Steve knew it without Sam ever saying it and a part of him felt terrible for having a part of his life that Sam felt locked out of, but another part of him was relieved that Sam understood and respected the fact that there were certain things just too complicated to share.

It was only when Sam kissed his cheek and put the notebook away that he started to feel a bit better. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Steve muttered. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He felt the smile curl Sam's lips as he leaned in to kiss him again. "Okay."

The door creaked open just as Sam began scooting towards the edge of the bed. Darlene stepped in, flicking the lights on and shaking her head at both of them. She was wearing a bright red dress with a glittery snowman broach pinned over her heart and her shoulder length hair tucked up and pinned in place with tiny little snowflakes. Sam said that this was a more subtle version of her "Christmas tree" get up and that Darlene was likely toning things down a bit for Steve's sake. "Now Sammy, didn't I send you in here to get Steve _outta_ bed?" she chided as she adjusted one of the silver angels dangling from her earlobe. "You boys best not be planning to make any more babies in my room."

"We gotta get this one out first, Mom," Sam huffed as he rolled out of bed just as his mother shook her head and left the room.

"What happened to all that talk about making a twin?" Steve teased as he hoisted himself up as well. Sam only managed to glare playfully down at him before Darlene's voice cut through the apartment.

"Steve? You hurry up now. Your beets are getting cold."

Steve groaned and placed a hand on his stomach. "I don't think the baby's going to have enough room underneath all those beets."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, posting a Christmas chapter in August. I apologize if this puts anybody off.


	5. Chapter 5

**January**

Stark returned to New York on the eighth instead of the sixth with a deeper tan and plans for another side project. The word from Bruce and Pepper was that Stark was working around the clock on some secret project in his workshop, which was troubling enough on its own, but his new project idea seemed to involve making a new flight suit for Sam and Steve couldn't help thinking that somehow the two were connected.

"Relax Cap, I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, husband!, away from you," Stark assured as he clasped a hand down on Sam's shoulder, a gesture that caused Sam's posture to stiffen as he pinned Stark with an appraising look. "Just figured he might need some new equipment since his old gear got trashed last year over the Potomac. Although, _that_ gear was stolen government property and this would actually belong to _you_."

"Sam's not interested," Steve huffed as he wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, pulling their bodies closer and effectively detaching Sam from Stark's grasp. "We're not interested. We don't need any suits or equipment from you."

"Okay, I get that you're trying to be intimidating and everything right now, but..." Stark smirked as he nodded towards Steve's swollen stomach. 

Steve huffed and did his best to resist the urge to tug at the hem of his sweater or cover his stomach with his arm, because that was just the sort of reaction Tony wanted. Not that it would have done any good. A twenty four week belly wasn't easy to conceal. Instead Steve sighed and placed one hand on his stomach and kept his other firmly around Sam.

"Listen, Tony," Steve began in as calm and even a tone as he could manage, "we appreciate everything you've done for us, but this is out of line."

"Steve," Sam said began gently, but Stark was quick to overstep him.

"Out of line? I'm just offering a gift. Think of it as the wedding present I couldn't give you since you conveniently forgot to invite me to the ceremony."

"This isn't the sort of gift you give to people, Tony," Steve sighed as he flexed his hold on Sam's waist. 

"Jesus Steve, it's a flight pack, not a bomb."

"It's not something we _need_."

Tony frowned at that. "So what are you saying, Cap? You planning to retire?"

Steve stiffened, his voice caught in his throat as he considered the question a bit longer than he likely should have. The sudden silence gave Sam enough of an opening to place his own hand over Steve's and give it a firm and pointed squeeze before turning to stare at Tony. "Can you give us a minute?"

Stark shrugged, throwing his hands up a bit as he moved towards the door. "Okay, take all the time you need. You have my number." The door closed with a thud and a click and Steve suddenly felt oddly light headed as he forced himself to relax in Stark's absence. It was the first time that Tony had actually visited them since they had moved into the Tower, but somehow it felt a bit like having a whirlwind stroll in and out of his front door.

Sam noticed and was quick yet gentle as he untangled himself from Steve's grasp before leading him into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water before handing it over to Steve. "Any particular reason you freaked out like that?" Sam asked, his voice teasing but mild as he gauged Steve's reaction.

Steve frowned thoughtfully as he sipped at his glass. "I overreacted, I'm sorry," he said, rolling the glass between his hands. "I'm sorry I spoke for you."

"It's okay," Sam shrugged even though it really wasn't. 

"I just don't like the idea... I don't like that he's interested in you."

Sam nodded, folding his arms over his chest in a manner that was both guarded and open as he continued to study Steve's face. "I see. And is this about Stark or me?"

Steve blinked at him. "What?"

"You seemed pretty reluctant to introduce me to your friends before we moved in here," Sam noted with a shrug. "Even after that you had a tendency to get a little defensive whenever we were around them. If I didn't know any better..."

"I'm not ashamed of you," Steve said instantly as he put his glass aside before reaching out for Sam's hand. "I love you, Sam, and I'm not ashamed of us or what we've made together." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sam's in a firm kiss as if to prove his point.

Sam chuckled against his mouth before gently pushing him away, but Steve was quick to get in one quick peck to his cheek before relenting. "Okay, baby, okay. I believe you." He offered Steve's side a reassuring pat before shifting slightly. "So it's Stark then?"

Steve sighed and pressed a hand to his stomach. "I know Tony's not a bad guy. He means well even if he can be a bit overbearing at times." He shook his head and rubbed at the part of his stomach that was starting to feel jittery from more than just the baby. "But he's also reckless and has a tendency not to think things through. I don't like the idea of you becoming one of his pet projects."

A thoughtful frown creased Sam's features as he silently considered what Steve had told him. "What if this is something that I wanted?"

"What?"

Sam sighed and rubbed at his arm. "I was part of that program for a long time before I got out," he explained. "Taking those flights, going on those rescues became normal for me. But it's just like Stark said, those wings may have felt like mine, but they didn't belong to me. I wanna get back out there, Steve. I wanna fly again."

Steve frowned as he grasped Sam's hands and gave it a light squeeze. "Sam... I don't want you to get hurt."

"Well, I'm not saying I want to join the Avengers," Sam grinned. "I'll just take a few test flights, that's all." He paused and gave Steve's fingers a gentle tug. "Okay?"

Steve sighed and nodded his head reluctantly. "Alright. Just... don't let Stark talk you into doing anything dangerous."

"No space flights, gotcha."

\--

Natasha finally got back to Steve with information on Bucky, information that she was able to obtain because she was currently _with_ Bucky. "I found your friend just outside of Baltimore," Natasha informed him. "He's a touch more lucid and a bit less stabby now."

Steve frowned into the mouth piece of his cell phone. The call had come in the middle of the afternoon while Steve was sitting in the living room and making pathetic attempts at doing stretches while Sam sat in the kitchen reading articles on WebMD. It was sad that just the mere mention of Bucky was enough for Steve to feel the powerful desire to drop everything and run, even when he knew that it was a terrible idea. Natasha had said that Bucky was more lucid, not completely sane which likely meant he still hadn't fully regained his memories, if he ever would. Furthermore, even if Bucky had managed to regain anything he would still remember that Steve was pregnant and would likely be furious at him for doing something so irresponsible in his current state.

"Where are you now?" Steve asked in a purposely hushed tone. The apartment, if it could really be called that, was large enough that Steve could speak openly on the phone without worrying about Sam overhearing from his end of the flat, but he still felt a bit guilty when he kept stealing glances over his shoulder to check if Sam were anywhere near him.

"In France with Fury and Clint," she informed him neutrally. "We're helping him look into a few things."

Steve nodded and longed to ask for more. He wanted to know how Bucky looked, if he seemed any more human than the last time Steve had run into him, or if he had mentioned Steve at all. More than anything he was tempted to ask Natasha to hand the phone over so he could actually speak to Bucky, but if Bucky were ready to contact Steve he would have done so himself, so he pushed that thought aside. "Is he talking?"

"Only when necessary," Natasha said and he could almost hear her shrug over the line. 

"Oh."

"He did mention something pretty interesting not long ago."

"Oh?"

Natasha hummed expectantly and Steve soon found himself greeted by a brief, yet pointed silence. "Apparently, there are some congratulations in order."

Steve sighed in a mixture of disappointment and exasperations. "So he told you about that, huh?"

"He did," Natasha confirmed gleefully. "Which is another reason why I'm calling you: did you know that your pal Barnes _can't_ do what you can do?"

He stiffened and his ears perked up that. "What?"

"Apparently Zola's version of the serum didn't have that feature. He likely saw that side effect as an error and fixed it." She paused for a moment as if to allow the words to sink in. "Do you want me to look further into it? There might be a way that you can prevent this from happening again."

Steve said nothing to that as he felt the question tumbling around in his mind. His free hand cradled his stomach as the baby inside began to kick and squirm beneath his skin. If this topic had been brought up back in August, Steve wouldn't have hesitated to tell Natasha to find out as much as she could. Yet things were different now. He was twenty five weeks deep, well past the midway point and as horrible and humiliating as some things had been a part of him still felt a bit chilled at the idea of having the chance to relive this experience taken away.

He swallowed and rubbed the pad of his thumb along the flushed patch of skin that had gone dry with just how over stretched it was and was soon rewarded by the gentle push of what must have been his child's foot. It should have been disturbing to know that there was something alive and growing inside of his body, but it was oddly peacefully and fulfilling to know that he was finally creating again, doing something positive with this body other than bringing death and pain.

"Steve?" Natasha called out patiently and it was only then that he realized just how long he had been mulling this over. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I... yeah, I'm here." His eyes flickered over to the far end of the apartment where the sound of dishes clattering gently began to filter in the air. "I... do you think I can get back to you?"

\--

Bruce didn't seem to think much of Natasha's discovery. Steve had expected a bigger response from Banner when he told him, but Bruce seemed only moderately intrigued by the notion of Zola's "fixed" formula correcting the fertility problem.

"Another serum won't help," he shrugged as he poured hot water into their mugs. It didn't take long for the bags of tea inside to start seeping and the aroma to fill the air. "Erskine's serum made something grow inside of you while, Zola's just kept that something from developing in the initial process. If you want to prevent this from happening again, we can take care of it without injections."

Steve stiffened at the comment even as Bruce dug around the kitchen drawer for sugar packets. "With surgery?"

Bruce nodded and handed Steve little pink and brown packets. "If you want, I could talk to Strange and we can work something out after the delivery. After we extract the baby it would be a simple matter of going back in to remove-"

"Stop." Steve frowned at his hands and the warped tea spoon that was twisted in his grasp. He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. "Sorry. I just..."

A heavy silence settled upon the room as Bruce's fingers fiddled with the ends of his own spoon. "Are you... are you sure this is something you want to do, Steve?" he asked carefully as he tore the end of his packets. "If you don't want to go through with the procedure you don't have to."

"I know," he groaned and slumped his shoulders. Steve looked down at the twisted utensil in his hand and made quick work of smoothing it back into its proper shape before grabbing a few of the brown packets and pouring them into his mug.

"But the option is available if you chose to take it."

"I know."

They were silent again save for the steady clanking of the spoons swirling their respective tea. "Would I be right in assuming this is a topic you haven't discussed with Sam?"

His stomach tightened as Steve hung his head in shame. There were still so many things stuck in his head when it came to Sam and this marriage, this relationship, and the family that they were making together. Adding one more thing to consider felt too much. "We were only together for a few months before all this happened," Steve admitted and Bruce actually looked surprised. "There wasn't any sharing of long term goals, but now that this is on the table... it feels a bit wrong to shut a door that's just been opened."

Bruce nodded stiffly as he took a tentative sip from his mug and Steve could tell from the tension in his stance that this wasn't exactly a subject he felt equipped the deal with. "I don't exactly have a great track record when it comes to relationships," he said honestly, "but this is a big issue and if you plan to make this marriage work it's something that needs to be discussed, no matter how uncomfortable it may seem."

Steve knew that Bruce was right, but he also knew that he couldn't quite stomach the idea of approaching this just yet. He frowned and took a sip of his tea.

\--

If Steve was grateful for anything, it was the winter. He hadn't been very fond of the cold since being defrosted, but this year was a bit different. The weather gave him an excuse to stay bundled up and even if a thick jacket couldn't completely conceal his bulk, it still did the job well enough that he didn't feel completely awkward just walking down the street. 

The snow had been coming down in regular fits for the past few weeks, but that day was the first time in a while when there weren't any flurries falling from the sky and Steve and Sam took the opportunity to hop a train and head to Central Park. The lake had frozen over and couples were skating in happy little pairs. Sam teased him about the idea of going on the ice, but Steve's ankles were already swelling just from the act of climbing the bridge, so they only stood and watched for a while before moving on. 

They sat on a bench and watched the kids sledding down the hills and Steve was instantly reminded of Bucky. He remembered a dozen winters marked by a hundred snowball fights and staying out until their lips were practically blue. He wondered where Bucky was, if he was still with Natasha or if he remembered anything. Every now and again Steve would get the urge to whip out his phone and ring her up just to check on Bucky's progress, but he knew better. They were still on a mission of sorts and calling just to chat wasn't exactly a smart idea.

"So how have things been going with Tony?" Steve asked in order to get his mind away from his gloomy thoughts. "Has he made any progress on the wings?"

"A lot actually," Sam admitted as he draped his arm across the back of the bench. It was a casual enough gesture that no one would have noticed, but Steve still forced himself not to lean into it even though the prospect of Sam's embrace was quite tempting. "I thought for sure we'd still be in the planning phases -- you know looking over blue prints, going over the specs, stuff like that? -- but Stark's already set for a test flight. We're just waiting for the weather to clear."

"Yeah, that's just like Tony alright." Steve grinned up at the sky that was pleasant yet frigid. He couldn't imagine what the chill from soaring above the clouds would feel like. "Just don't let him pressure you into stepping out before you're ready."

"Yes, Captain," Sam chuckled and Steve was tempted to duck his head in case someone overheard. "I'll be sure to check in with you beforehand."

"You're darn right you will," he teased as he nudged Sam's side playfully. "I'm your husband, remember? That means you gotta keep me in the loop on everything."

After a while the sky began to turn a bit gray and Steve and Sam wandered off to a nearby diner to grab something to eat. "Is it weird that I want ice cream?" Steve said as he dipped the crust of his sandwich in the last remnants of broth sitting at the bottom of his bowl. "It's ten below and I could really go for a big bowl of ice cream right about now."

Sam chuckled around the chewed bits of french fries still in his mouth. "Well, they do have eggcreams on the menu. Maybe if you ask real nice they'll even throw in a few pickles for you."

"Hey, my cravings haven't been that weird," Steve shot back even as he grinned over at him.

"That's true, and it's also been nearly two months since you've thrown up."

He cringed. "Don't remind me."

Snow was starting to sprinkle down on the other side of the glass so Sam ordered a cup of coffee while Steve asked for a milkshake and was pleased when their waitress only chuckled briefly at the request. "Okay," Sam began leisurely as he dumped little cups of creamer into his coffee, "so if you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Steve shrugged. "To be honest, I kinda miss your old place."

He chuckled when Sam rewarded him with a particularly dull look. "Really Rogers? Anywhere in the world and you pick my old house?"

Steve smiled around his straw as he slurped until the glass was nearly empty. His time there might not have come about organically, but Sam's place was the first real home that he'd had since his mother died. It didn't feel empty or hollow like the other apartments he'd stayed in before, but real and full with an actual history and depth to it. "There was a charm to it," Steve offered and even if Sam didn't really get, he seemed to grasp where Steve was going well enough.

"Well, we can find our own charming new place soon enough."

"Bruce suggested we try upstate."

"Is that something you want to look into?"

Steve shrugged. "Yeah. I like the idea of raising our baby in the suburbs."

Sam smiled and grabbed his hand and it really said something about Twenty First Century New York that two men could hold hands in the middle of a diner and have none of the other patrons even bat an eye. "I like that too."

His pulse quickened as Sam's thumb brushed against his knuckles and for a moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. He licked his lips and screwed up his courage. "Sam? There's something I think we need to talk about."

He had Sam's full attention and the question had been assembled and reassembled so many times in his mind that Steve already felt the words forming on the tip of his tongue just when their waitress came by. "Can I get you anything else gentlemen?" she asked and Steve was instantly ducking his head so that his face could be obscured by his wool cap. Sam smiled and waved her off and she hurried away in order to tally up their check.

Even if only for a moment, Steve felt the momentum slip away and when Sam prodded him along he found himself saying "I think we need to start talking about baby names," instead.

\--

**February**

Steve felt himself drifting into consciousness to the sound of Tony and what must have been Pepper talking. He couldn't make out much of what they were saying, but eventually the voices disappeared and Steve's eyes gradually began to focus on the relatively empty common room. The book he had been reading had fallen to the floor and his head was slumped against the arm of the couch in an awkward angle while Stark was hovering above him, midway through draping a woolen throw over his shoulders. Steve groaned and rubbed at his eyes as Tony straightened and stepped away. 

"Oh, you're awake," he said with forced indifference. "Good. I can make a smoothie. Want some?"

Steve yawned as Tony walked around the sofa and over to the bar. It startled him that despite how much Tony drank he still seemed to take in a good deal of healthy food. "What's in it?" he managed to say even as the urge drift off once more clawed at the back of his eyelids.

"Oh, the usual stuff," Stark said as he assembled his ingredients from the other side of the room. Steve rubbed at his face again and sat up straight, preparing himself for the inevitable churn of the blender blades. "Spinach, kale, tomato juice, carrots, and a bit of black pepper."

"Sounds good," he shrugged against the back of the couch. "What time is it?"

"Seven fifteen." The motor flicked on, filling the room with brief crunching grinds before easing into smooth and steady churns. Tony came back around and handed him a glass less than a minute later.

The drink was warm and smooth as it slid down his throat, but Steve found himself frowning even as he swallowed. "I think I was supposed to make dinner... or pick up dinner." He groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead. "I can't remember."

"Aw, you have pregnancy brain. That's cute."

"I don't," Steve huffed defensively, but reconsidered when he recalled just how many things had been slipping his notice lately. "Okay, maybe I do. Just a little." His frown deepened at the sound of Tony's chuckling, but he decided to ignore it in favor of his drink. "Was Pepper here?"

Stark hummed around the brim of his glass. "She was and she thinks you falling asleep on the couch is adorable, by the way. Even if you do snore like a rusted buzz saw wrestling a lawnmower."

"I do n-"

"JARVIS, playback?"

The speakers hidden within the walls crackled briefly as the sound of a pinched, throaty rumbling filtered through the air and Steve suddenly had the urge to hurl the now empty glass directly at Stark's head. "Yeah, this is exactly why I didn't want to move in here," he grumbled as he set his drink down on the coffee table with a pointed thunk. 

"Oh, come on," Tony said with a deceptively friendly wave of his hand when Steve made to leave. Steve sat back down, more so because he hadn't quite gotten the hang of sitting up quickly in his bulkier state and needed a bit of time to warm himself up to it. "I'm just kidding! I mean, come on, you're what? Seven months?"

"Twenty nine weeks."

"Yeah, seven months along. It's okay for you to do weird stuff. Although, I'm kinda surprised that your hubby puts up with it." Stark took a moment to finish off the rest of his drink, but his eyes soon lit up as if struck with a sudden thought. "Speaking of which, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Your husband's black."

Steve tensed in a mixture of shock and annoyance at Stark's blunt tone. "Did you just realize that?"

"No, Cap, I didn't just realize that, but, come on, you being gay? That was a pretty big shock itself. And, again, the baby thing... well that's in a ballpark all on its own. But your husband's black? You married a black man! How did that happen?"

Steve frowned and squared his shoulders. "What's wrong with that? Do you have a problem with it?"

"Of course not! Sam's great. In fact, he's probably the nicest, most well adjusted guy I've ever met so I'm inclined to hate him a bit for it, but..." Tony stopped and shifted, moving from the chair on the opposite end of the room to the crouch on top of the coffee table in front of Steve. He could tell that despite his tone, Stark wasn't actually trying to be annoying or antagonistic, but this topic was just something that truly puzzled him and Steve had to wonder if anyone else was this perplexed by his relationship with Sam. "I grew up in a post-Civil Rights era world, so I'm used to this sort of thing. You came off the ice three or four years ago and in your time, your marriage would be illegal for a number of reasons, one of which being your husband's skin color."

"I can't make excuses for history Tony," he sighed, "but the way things were don't necessarily dictate the way I feel." Steve shrugged and placed a hand on his stomach. "I love Sam, that's all. I don't care if he's a black."

Tony's eyes widen and Steve could tell from the sincere set of his jaw that he had said something wrong. "Oh, wow, Steve... you can't say that."

"What?"

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay... I'm genuinely surprised no one's ever said this to you before, but nowadays... uh, well... you don't say things like 'a black' or 'the blacks.' You have to say 'black person' or 'African American person.' For example, you're a gay man, but you're not 'a gay.'"

Steve blushed. "I... oh..."

"Oh, Steve, you big dumb ancient newborn baby." He shook his head before standing to pat Steve's shoulder. "Go have a special talk with hubby on this one."

-

"Is this something I could possible blame on pregnancy brain?" Steve asked hopefully as Sam fixed him another plate of spaghetti.

Sam chuckled as he placed another piece of garlic bread next to the tower of meat sauce coated pasta before handing it off to Steve. "Sorry, Rogers, I don't think it works that way," he grinned as he pulled up a chair beside Steve. His own dinner had been finished and his plates were washed and dried, but Steve was still working on fourths, but Sam always seemed intent on keeping him company while he ate so he sat with his arms folded on top of the table as he watched Steve finish his meal. "But don't beat yourself up too much about it. I've had people call me worse. I had this one guy... Well, let's just say we were done before he could even finish the sentence."

Sam laughed, but Steve didn't, because he didn't like the idea of degrading other people, even if it was unintentionally. He had put up with his fair share of name calling in his time, but he also knew that people like Sam had dealt with much worse and he hated the notion of being a part of that. 

"I'm still really sorry," he sighed, twirling a few noodles around the prongs of his fork. "It's kinda stupid, but... well, I never really thought about you being... about the whole black and white thing when it came to the baby." Sam's brows arched in surprise so Steve continued. "I'm not dumb, I know that the baby would take after you in some ways – like I always pictured him having your eyes or your smile – but I never thought about... well, definitions I guess is the best way to put it." He frowned thoughtfully. "I know what people called them back in my time, but it's probably offensive now. What would people call our baby today?"

Sam considered that for a moment and Steve could tell from the troubled gleam in his eyes that this was a more loaded question than he had originally thought. 

"Give me the good and the bad."

He watched as Sam clenched his jaw and rubbed at his knee underneath the table. "The nice pc term is biracial, but most people usually say 'mixed' which is okay. The word you're more familiar with? Mulatto? Nobody says that anymore." Sam shifted and chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Some kids might call him Oreo or half and half. Some people might think he's cuter than the other babies because he's half white, say he's got 'good hair' or 'nice skin.' They might accuse _him_ of thinking he's better because he's lighter or say that he's not black enough."

Steve nodded, his appetite all but evaporating as he listened to Sam speak. He could tell by the set of his jaw and the shameful look in his eyes that Sam might have said those things, may have even believed them himself, and suddenly Steve was beginning to see their situation was a bit more complicated than he had thought.

"Is it really going to be that hard for our baby?" He glanced down and found himself setting his fork aside in order to place his hand against his stomach. "Growing up like this?" 

"Well, to be fair, being Captain America's kid was never going to be easy and yeah, being half black is still pretty difficult, but it won't be as hard as it was seventy years ago." Sam shrugged. "It won't even be as hard as it was thirty years ago."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I thought this was a better world."

Sam shifted closer and placed his hand on top of Steve's. "It's a _different_ world. Somethings got better, others stayed the same. That's just the way it goes."

"And there's nothing we can do about it," he concluded solemnly.

"Not necessarily, not really. I mean, there's always something we can do." He laced their fingers together and gave Steve a gentle squeeze. "We can talk to him about it, tell him that what might happen and that we'll always be there for him. It won't change things, but it would help him to be ready. As parents that all we can do: get them ready to fight their own fights."

Steve nodded and kissed him. Sam's words made him feel better, but it was only a bit. It hurt more than Steve could say to know that there was something out there that he couldn't protect his baby from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that some people may be a bit offended by the language used by Steve at the end of this chapter so I would like to take a moment to address this.
> 
> First of all, I feel the need to point out that I am a biracial woman (half black, half hispanic). That being said my experiences with race are my own and I cannot speak for all multiracial people in America/the world. However, in my experiences even young, modern people can sometimes unknowingly use offense language to describe others (IE a white a former friend of mine once referred to black people as "coloreds" in front of me) and someone like Steve, who is obviously open minded and liberal, can make mistakes here and there too. Yes, Steve has worked with Fury, but he's not friends with him. The way the movie protrays things, Steve doesn't really have a full fledged friendship until meeting Sam (he and Natasha seem to be building a more personal relationship within the film) What's more, in my experience (and again this is just my experience) white people don't really come up to you asking to have a deep thoughtful conversation about race after just getting to know you. I can't see the topic of race coming up with Fury or any of the other SHIELD agents Steve works with because the way he spoke in the film seemed to imply he just went in, did his job, and left.
> 
> As for Tony being the one to correct him on the matter... Well, first I in no way think Tony Stark is a saint nor do I believe he's the most PC person in the MCU, which is why he does _not_ finish this conversation with Steve and instead tells him to go talk to Sam. Basically Tony is just there to segway the conversation over to Sam, because (again as a biracial person) I felt that having a dialogue about the race of their future child was important and didn't want to skip over that.
> 
> I am sorry if I offended anyone, but I personally feel that adding flaws to a character such as Steve makes him rounder. It is because he is an accepting person that he recognized that he did something wrong and wanted to change his bad pattern. However, that being said, I can understand why this sort of thing could produce some eye rolls and I will go ahead and add a warning to the fic.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit guys, I haven't had a ton of energy lately, so while proof reading this chapter I was sort of falling asleep. Chances are good there might be a few mistakes in this chapter. Please let me know if you catch any.

**February**

Steve groaned at the feeling of being nudged awake, the hand on his shoulder at first tender and soothing before gradually turning a bit more insistent when he responded to the touch by burying his nose further into his pillow. "Wake up Steve," Sam said gently as he gave his arm one final pat. "Time for breakfast."

"Mmnh let me sleep a bit longer," he grumbled as he curled further against the nest of pillows that were supporting his bulky form. This was the first decent night of sleep he'd had in weeks and the last thing Steve wanted was to have it interrupted. 

"Are you serious? _You_ wanna sleep in?" Sam laughed playfully, a slight dip in the mattress alerting Steve to the fact that Sam was now resting against the side of the bed. "Aren't you the same guy who used to wake up at the crack of dawn to run thirty miles a minute?"

"Yeah, well that was before I was carrying your kid in my gut," he half joked, one hand instinctively slipping down to touch the side of his stomach.

Sam chuckled from above before bending down to press a kiss to the shell of his ear. "Come on, baby, it's Valentine's day," he reminded him, mouthing the words against Steve's skin in order to give him the full effect of his warm breath. "I'm trying to be romantic here and you're killing the mood."

He let out another low groan before gently shifting onto his back and cracking an eye open in order to gaze up at Sam. He was smiling pleasantly above him in the still dim room and Steve found himself wrapping his arms around Sam's shoulders and pulling him back in to bed despite the desire to do nothing more than to slip back to sleep. "I'm not exactly in a very romantic mood," he moaned as Sam curled up beside him, pressing another kiss or two against the stubble clinging to Steve's cheek. "Can't we do Valentine's some other time? When I'm not a whale for instance?"

"You keep moaning and groaning like that and you won't be getting any of my special Valentine's breakfast," he teased, his fingers curling around the fabric of Steve's night shirt as he used to bridge of his nose to caress Steve's throat. "And it's a real good one, too. Cute heart shaped sausage patties and everything."

Steve hummed in appreciation at that, his stomach rumbling as the baby began doing back flips at the prospect of food. It was only then that he caught the aroma of a seasoned meat and warm bread wafting through the crack in the doorway and Steve found himself sitting up just a bit straighter. "Eggs?"

"You bet," Sam confirmed as he helped him into an upright position.

"What kind?"

"Scrambled. Should I bring it in?"

"Eggs and sausage and I don't even need to climb out of bed? I guess we can do Valentine's after all."

Sam smiled before leaning in to kiss Steve full on the lips, morning breath forgotten or completely ignored, before pulling back to place a quick peck to the top of Steve's stomach. Steve smiled and pressed a hand to the top of Sam's head as he muttered a quick "Happy Valentine's Day" to the baby before stepping out the room. He came back with a tray, which he couldn't quiet manage to place across Steve's lap so he positioned by his side before returning in phases carrying several plates loaded with their breakfast. There were sausage and eggs just as promised as well as a plate of sautéed home fries and a fresh batch of baked biscuits. It wasn't a complete cheat as Sam balanced things out a bit with a plate of fresh berries and a tall glass of orange juice for each of the. Steve happily tucked in as Sam sat by his side sipping a mug of coffee and unwinding after all the hard work he had no doubt put into fixing their meal.

"You really out did yourself," Steve said as he tore one of the biscuits in half and slipped a sausage patty in between the two ends. He hummed contented as he bit into the warm flakey bread surrounding the spiced meat. "Promise me you'll still cook like this after the baby's born."

"I can't guarantee I'll have the energy," Sam chuckled. "But if this kid eats the way you do then I'll have to do my best."

Steve smiled and offered him the last biscuit. Sam hesitated at first, but relented when it became obvious that Steve wasn't just making an empty gesture. "This was really nice," he said sleepily as he leaned over to give Sam's shoulder a tender kiss. "Thank you. I feel kind of bad that I don't have anything for you though."

"Don't worry about it," Sam said with a wave of his hand. Steve knew that he meant it, because he was starting to learn that Sam was the type who genuinely enjoyed giving presents more than receiving. It was beginning to make him feel a bit selfish, forgetting holidays and special events, but Sam was patient and knew that Steve was still learning this sort of thing. He would just have to be ready for the next big event. Sam smiled and moved the now empty tray to the floor in order to shift closer to Steve's side. "Okay, so we've officially gotten through a good deal of firsts together. All the major holidays: Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years... We've got St Patty's next month, we had your birthday in July, my birthday..."

"Your birthday?" Steve perked up, ashamed at the sudden realization that he didn't know his own husband's birthday. "When was that?"

"Back in September," he shrugged.

Steve frowned at that. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

Sam gave another shrug and tore off a piece of the biscuit and popped it into his mouth. "I dunno. I guess it just seemed kinda weird to bring it up considering how much you were freaking out at the time." 

"I wasn't that bad," he argued, but was instantly met with a small, weary smile. "Okay, so maybe I was a bit frazzled, but you still could have said something." Steve shifted against the rumpled sheets pooling at the foot of the bed. "You know this marriage thing is kind of a two way street. I appreciate how well you take care of me, but I don't think it's fair to always put yourself second to me."

"You're right," Sam relented as he finished off the rest of his biscuit. "I should have told you."

"I should have asked," Steve frowned. "It was selfish of me not to ask."

Sam smiled and leaned in to place a quick peck against Steve's cheek. "It's okay. You've had a lot on your mind lately." He gave Steve's stomach a pat in order to emphasize his point.

"That’s no excuse. I wanna know everything about you. The big stuff and the little stuff, starting with your birthday."

"Well, it's September 23rd for starters," Sam recalled as he draped an arm across Steve's shoulder. Steve leaned in, resting his head against Sam's side as he listened intently. "And I'm thirty-six. I was born in Harlem and, uh, let's see, you met my mom, I've got an older brother and a baby sister, they're both married with kids..."

"What about your dad?" Steve asked and instantly felt Sam stiffen against him. His gaze softened as he placed a hand on Sam's arm. "You never talk about him."

Sam's eyes turned distant for a moment as he worked his jaw as if to build up the strength to speak. "He was a preacher in our neighborhood. Died when I was in high school."

"I'm sorry," Steve said instinctively, the words more a reflex than a since comment and he was quick to start over. "I'm sorry to hear that. Were you close?"

"Yeah, we, uh..." Sam cleared his throat, his eyes darting across the room a bit before settling on a spot near the foot of the bed. "I was a real knuckle head as a kid. Started off as a good student, then kids started messing with me for being a bookworm so I let my grades slip. Dad wasn't too happy about that, kept trying to set me right. He was like that... He got shot trying to break up a fight and everything kinda went to hell for me after that."

A heavy silence settled on the room as Steve gave a slight nod and did his best to hold Sam firmly against him. "I'm really sorry, Sam," he said sincerely as he pressed a quick kiss to Sam's throat. "My dad shipped out before I was even born. My mom said she wrote him a few letters, but there's no way of knowing whether he got any of them before he was killed. It used to keep me up at night thinking that my dad may have died never knowing about me. At least you got to spend some time with your dad. I mean, maybe in a way that makes it kinda worse..."

"Nah, well, I mean, I've still got a lot of good memories too. Like this time before my sis was born and Dad took me and my brother fishing. We were out there for hours and didn't catch a bite. Gideon got a real nasty sunburn, I threw up in the boat twice, and we were all miserable on the ride back, so my dad stopped by the store and bought a ton of fish. When we came home he and my mom did this whole song and dance pretending that _we_ were the ones who caught the fish."

Steve smiled at the sound of Sam chuckling above him. "Sounds like a great dad."

"He was."

"And you're going to be a great dad, too," Steve promised, giving Sam's arm a supportive squeeze. "I know it."

A slow sad smile slipped across Sam's features at that comment, his eyes growing a bit glassy from the tears he was barely managing to hold back. "Thanks baby," he whispered. "I guess I'll have to be a great dad to keep up with how amazing you're gonna be."

"It's not a contest," Steve chuckled as he pressed another kiss to Sam's shoulder. "But yeah, I'm going to be awesome."

Sam laughed and gave Steve's side a playful nudge which Steve managed to slip away from as he pushed the sheets aside in order to slide out of bed. "Where do you think you're going Rogers?"

"Kitchen," Steve said simply as he grabbed his bathrobe from the foot of the bed where it had been flung the previous night. "Gotta get to work on your cake."

"Cake?" Sam chuckled skeptically.

"Sam, you can't tell me that I missed your birthday and not expect me to bake you a cake," he chided playfully as he tied off the belt of the robe as best as he could. "It's the absolute _least_ I can do. So what's your favorite kind?"

Sam hummed and considered the question for a moment. "It's been a while since I've had a decent lemon cake."

"Lemon? Okay. I can do that. What kind of frosting?"

"Think you could manage strawberry?"

Steve grinned broadly at that. "Consider it done."

\--

**March**

Steve dreamed of being shot. Even in his sleep he felt the burn of the bullet digging its way through him, tearing at his insides so quickly yet so sharply that he didn't even realize it had happened until he had looked down to confirm what he felt. It was a clean shot, straight in and out and blood poured out from the wound like water seeping from a pricked balloon. 

He groaned and jerked awake, glancing at the clock on his bedside table and the bright red numbers piercing through the dark. It was nearly three in the morning. He touched his stomach and felt something wet and warm on his hands. Steve's eyes were sharp enough that he could see fairly well in the dark, yet he knew that he was bleeding even without looking.

"Sam." Steve gasped and sat upright in bed. Nothing hurt, but his entire palm was slick with blood and the front of his night shirt felt damp and clung to his skin. "Sam wake up. I'm bleeding!"

The lights flicked on before Sam could even sit up and Steve winced as his eyes struggled to adjust. Sam shifted beside him, wide eyed and fully alert, and pulled back the sheets in order to get a better look at the situation. There was more blood than he'd expected, covering the base of his stomach and soaking through his shirt and pants. Red patches decorated the mattress and the hem of the sheets and Steve suddenly found his eyes darting between his damp stomach and his blood coated hands.

"Holy shit," Sam breathed. "Are you in labor?"

Steve shook his head, because he didn't feel anything more than a slight sting and even if he hadn't experienced labor before, he had a feeling that a contraction would leave a bigger impact than this. "No. I don't know."

"Stay right here, I'm going to get a towel and we'll call Banner."

" _I have already taken the liberty of alerting Dr. Banner,_ " JARVIS's even tone informed him and Steve realized for the first time that the computer had been the one to turn on the lights. Sam was already half way to the bathroom, but he stumbled a bit at the sound of the disembodied voice filtering into the room. " _A medical team will be on their way shortly._ "

Sam came back to bed with a damp towel. He lifted Steve's shirt and began clearing away the blood just as a firm knock came from the front of the apartment. "I'm gonna go let them in," Sam said as he grabbed Steve's hand and guided it over the towel pressed against him. The water was almost a bit too hot and made Steve realize for the first time just how flushed his skin already was. Sam took a moment to kiss him before heading out the room to answer the door.

Everything seemed to blur together after that. Steve was taken down to the medical facility. The staff stopped the bleeding, cleaned him off, and ran a few tests after which Steve was taken into a special room with a bed and monitors where he held hands with Sam and waited for Bruce.

"You're fine Steve," Banner assured him the moment he walked into the room. His voice was calm and neutral and his lips had even curled into a bit of a smile. It was likely meant to be reassuring, but Steve only felt confused and a bit foolish. "Everything's fine. You just had a bit of bleeding. It's normal."

"A _bit_?" Sam echoed skeptically. His hand was still firmly wrapped around Steve's but his left leg was jittering and his words were spoken with a note of panic that he had likely been doing his best to hide for most of the night. "That wasn't a bit of bleeding. The whole bed was covered in blood!"

Bruce chuckled good naturedly at Sam's exaggeration. "I doubt it was as bad as all that."

"How could it be normal if I was bleeding from my stomach?" Steve touched the bottom swell of his abdomen to the spot that was now covered not only by the stiff blankets and hospital gown he was wearing, but the strip of gauze and medical tape the nurse had patched him up with. The blood flow had seemed to stop before they had even made it onto the elevators, but Steve still didn't like the memory of his lower half soaked like that. At best it had reminded him too much of being shot in the gut by Bucky and at worst... "Is this some new trick my body's pulling on me?"

The calm grin faltered slightly as Bruce took a few steps closer to the right of Steve's bed. "Something like that, actually," he admitted. "Up until now, Strange and I have been making plans to perform a caesarean when the time came, but it looks like your body is preparing itself for a natural delivery."

The hand that had been touching his stomach tightened as Steve paled at the image. Even if he weren't currently looking at Sam in that moment, Steve had a feeling that he hadn't taken this news any better. Suddenly the idea of being cut open seemed a lot more manageable than the prospect of being pulled apart from the inside out. "You mean the baby's going to..." The words died away in his throat as he ran a finger over the edge of the cotton lining. He hadn't taken a good look at it, but Steve had a vague idea of the cut near his belly being hardly any bigger than his thumb. "It's not going to fit."

Bruce nodded as the small smile all but evaporated from his face. "You might actually be right, Steve. I've been looking at the latest tests and scans and, well, there's no other way to put this. You're having a very big baby. At the time of birth, I'm estimating the baby will be in the ninety percentile."

Sam stiffened beside him before reaching his other hand to join Steve's on his belly. They probably looked a bit silly, holding hands and cradling his stomach as they gaped at Bruce like a bunch of idiots, but Steve couldn't really do more than reel as he asked "What does that mean exactly?"

"Well, the average newborn weighs between five to nine pounds," Bruce explained carefully. "Your baby will probably be around eleven or twelve."

"Holy shit," Sam gaped.

"As far as I can tell, this is the one area that serum has expressed itself in the baby," Bruce went on, "but the baby is still healthy and normal in all other areas. There's also the possibility that your, uh, that you'll open up more over time the way women do when they approach their due date. It just means you'll have to be prepared for more spotting." Bruce smiled again, but this time it wasn't shy or calm, but a somewhat sly grin as he looked down at their joined hands. "I also think it'll be best if you two lay off the more physical aspects of your relationship for a while."

Steve felt the color return to his features ever so slightly at the mention of their still fairly regular sex life. It was yet another reminder that he and Sam were still getting to know each other, that the two of them were still "honeymooning" in a sense, and the forced lose of that intimacy saddened him a bit. Yet Steve shoved those thoughts aside as he rubbed at the swell of his stomach with the pad of his thumb. "Well, what happens if when it comes time to deliver... what happens if the baby's still too big?"

Bruce shrugged thoughtfully. "Well, if you want, we could still go through with the c-section as planned. It'll be easier if you're still planning on fixing yourself up soon as the baby's born."

"Fixing yourself?" Sam echoed curiously. Steve bowed his head slightly as Sam studied him carefully while Bruce's usually gentle features grew pinched with disappointment. "What does he mean by that Steve?"

Bruce cleared his throat with a small, yet pointed cough before straightening up and walking around the hospital bed. "I, uh, think the two of you have a few things you need to discuss. We can talk this over in the morning."

As Bruce left, Steve suddenly became painfully aware that it was already well past five in the morning. A part of him was somewhat tempted to use the late hour as an excuse to put things off, but he decided against it. He had been ducking this issue with Sam for far too long. "I should have told you sooner," he admitted apologetically. "It's something that Bruce and I discussed a while back... the possibility of... taking out the parts of me that can do this."

To Sam's credit, he didn't look angry so much as he did stunned by the idea. "Oh," he managed, slipping one of his hands away in order to scrub at his own face. "Well, yeah, that's a pretty big issue." Sam's hand slid back into place on top of Steve's, offering his hand a supportive squeeze as he seemed to turn this over in his head. "Is that something that you'd want? Not to have any more kids this way?"

Steve looked at their hands resting on top of his bulging middle before turning to study Sam's face. His features were open and neutral, a clear sign that he didn't want to push Steve one way or the other, but there was a note of desperation shining behind his eyes that made it obvious that his heart was already invested. "Sam," he began hesitantly as he willed himself to ask the question that had been sitting inside for months. "Do you think you would have married me... if this had never happened?"

It was brief, but Steve caught the flash of hurt behind Sam's brown eyes at that question and a part of him already regretted asking. "Steve, I love you. I loved you right from the start, well before I ever knew that this could happen. This thing," he said motioning between the two of them, "it's never been about what I could get from you. It's never been about what you could give me."

"But you asked me because of this," he countered, glancing pointedly down at his stomach. "You asked me because we found out and..." Steve ducked his head. "You were into it. Every part of it."

"Yeah, I'm into it," Sam smirked. "Seeing you like this... it does something to me, but..." It was Sam's turn to shift as he pulled his chair closer to Steve's beside until the Sam was practically pressed against the metal bars framing the head of the mattress. "Things have been crazy fast between us right from the start, but I'd like to think that if this had never happened, if you couldn't and things had played out naturally we'd still get to a place where I'd ask you or you'd ask me and we'd be living together and wearing matching rings the way we are now." 

"What about... _more_ babies?"

Sam's eyes sank downward as the hand on top of Steve's moved to caress the top of his stomach. "I'm not gonna lie, tonight kinda freaked me out, but... I dunno. I want more kids, but that doesn't mean _you_ have to be the one to have them. There are a lot of kids out there who need a good home and could do a lot worse than having Captain America and Falcon for dads."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

"But what do you want Steve?" He pressed his other hand to Steve's shoulder. "It's your choice, man. You have a say in what happens under your skin."

He sighed and did his best to fight off the flush that wanted to build under his skin. "I have to be honest, Sam, at first it freaked me out. This whole thing... it's embarrassing sometimes walking around like this and having everyone know, but... but I also like it. I like knowing that there's a part of you with me all the time." Sam's smile was warm and sweet as his eyes lingered on Steve. "It's selfish of me, isn't it? I want this. I want a family and I want more kids, but I also... I can't do this forever. I know I said that, but it was just a joke. I want to be Captain America again and I can't do that if I keep getting pregnant."

"It's not selfish of you to want things, Steve. I love you. I want you to be happy." He grabbed Steve's left hand tenderly in his and pressed a kiss to the gold band on his finger. "What's gonna make you happy?"

Steve swallowed against all the doubts and feelings swirling around in him. "Keeping this. I want to... I want to stay this way and have babies... even if they are giant babies."

Sam's hand tightened its hold on Steve's fingers even as he was careful to school his features. "Are you sure? Really sure? You know, if you need time to think it over..."

"No, I'm certain, I just... " He shifted and pulled Sam closer. "I'm just worried about some things. What if this baby's okay but the next one isn't? What if the baby starts to develop and things start coming through?"

Sam nodded and stood. Steve scooted over in order to allow Sam to sit beside him as best as he could on the narrow hospital bed. "We'll figure it out. We don't have to have kids one right after the other." His arm hooked itself over Steve's shoulders, pressing their bodies nearly flush together. "We'll just be careful for a while."

"We were careful before and this still happened," he sighed. "What if condoms don't work? On me?"

"Condoms work, Steve. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they work." Sam shrugged, his shoulders bobbing behind Steve's back even as he pressed his cheek against his face. "But if you're still scared we could always do other things to keep it from happening. There's always options." He pressed a quick kiss to Steve's temple. "It's okay. We'll be okay."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, we're okay."

-

They managed to squeeze in a few hours of sleep stuffed together on the little hospital bed and by morning proper, Sam and Steve were hoping to be discharged back to their living quarters. It was not to be, however, since Banner had apparently called in Strange who drove down from his home upstate in order to have one final conversation about how they would proceed with the delivery. It wasn't a terrible idea, but Steve and Sam were still a bit exhausted and shaken from the previous night's events, so even though they both agreed to another exam neither of them were looking forward to it.

"Your baby seems to be in position, Captain Rogers," Strange noted as he looked towards the image on display in front of them. Even if Steve had seen it before, he still couldn't help being captivated by the image in front of him. The picture's clarity was astonishing, if a bit unsettling as he looked at his baby's perfectly detailed features. It was upside down now, feet positioned upwards while the head pointed down. He could see it curled up in a tight little ball inside of him, hands pressed beneath its chin and knees tucked against its chest. If he stared long enough, Steve felt certain he could count all the little hairs clinging to the round head. "But as Dr. Banner has informed you, this child will be on the larger side."

"Bruce also said that I'll probably open up a bit more in the next few weeks," Steve pointed out.

Bruce stiffened a bit as Strange gave him a sidelong glance, which Banner answered with a weary grin. "That was just a theory Steve," he corrected as he rubbed at the back of his forearm hesitantly. "Right now, we can't be certain of just what your body is going to do."

He frowned at the two of them and suddenly the exam room felt a bit too crowded between the four men. "I don't think the serum would allow my body to do this if it didn't provide me with a proper exit strategy."

"Even if you do open more, it might not be enough to accommodate the size of your baby," Strange warned. "Large babies can be difficult to pass."

Steve nodded in understanding as he looked from the too clear image on display in front of them to the concerned faces surrounding him. He reached for Sam's hand and was rewarded with a tender squeeze as soon as Sam's fingers wrapped themselves around his palm. "I understand that, but I also know that the baby is healthy and so am I. We're both strong enough to take this and I want to do things as naturally as possible."

"Natural meaning...?" He turned to look at Sam who had seemed to grow a bit skeptical despite his best efforts. "Tell me you're not thinking of going without an epidural?"

"Trust me, Steve, you are definitely going to want a sedative for this," Bruce assured him.

"The dosage necessary for any sedative to have an impact on me would be pretty huge," Steve reminded them. "There's no telling what that might do to the baby and I don't want to take that risk."

"The baby is potentially going to be _twelve pounds_ , Steve," Sam reminded him, a note of urgency coming through in his voice. "You'll be squeezing a bowling ball out of a pinhole."

"Hey my body my choice, remember?" he countered and was a bit amused when Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat while Strange and Banner shared skeptical, yet relenting looks. "Look I'm not going to put my baby in any kind of danger. If things start and I think I can't handle it, then I'll take the epidural or do a c-section, but only if the natural method falls through, okay?"

Strange sighed wearily as Bruce shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Okay," Bruce relented as he grabbed a tablet that had been sitting on the small table behind them. "So we can basically expect the delivery date to be at the end of next month. Probably around the twenty eighth or ninth."

"I will do my best to make myself available during that time," Strange said, the man practically pouting in defeat.

-

"Are you sure you want to go the natural route? I mean, are you really sure?"

It was probably the fifth time Sam had asked Steve that question and it was only lunch time. He could tell by the way Sam was staring at him that he was trying to imagine it, trying to picture Steve pushing out a baby with no medical support like they were cave men out in the wild and a part of him wanted to laugh. 

"Are you going to go flying with Tony today?"

Sam startled for a moment and then laughed as he shook his head. "Nah man, no," he chuckled hesitantly. "After what just happened? Good luck getting me to leave your side."

"I'm fine Sam," Steve assured as he polished off the last of his soup. "False labor happens, right? Braxton hicks and all that, remember?"

"Yeah, but this whole thing? This is something that happens to _women_. You're not a woman."

Steve chuckled and placed a hand on his stomach. "Trust me Sam, I remember."

"You say that, but you're planning to go through this like a woman would." Sam sighed and scrubbed at his face tiredly. His whole being was radiating with exhaustion to the point that he was nearly doubled over the kitchen table. If Steve didn't know better he would have sworn that Sam was the one who had woken up at the crack of dawn with blood coming out of him. "I don't understand how you can be so calm about this."

"Well look who finally hoped aboard the freak out train."

"Don't," Sam chided warningly, but he couldn't hold the stern gaze for long before his lips started twitching with the need to smile. "Okay, fine, I'm freaking out, but _twelve pounds_ Steve! Do you know how big twelve pounds is?" Sam held up his hands in the air, the space between them likely longer than the width of Steve's stomach, yet the set of his mouth and the desperate bulge in his eyes made it clear Sam firmly believed this to be the case. He huffed, shaking his head. "I can't even think about that."

"Lucky for us, you're not going to be the one to do it," Steve grinned.

"Okay, so why are _you_ so calm now?"

"Because we're near the end, Sam," Steve laughed as he placed a supportive hand on Sam's shoulder. "I honestly think we've cleared the worst of it now. I mean the first month or so of throwing up every morning and not knowing why? That was hell. Then throwing up every ten seconds and know _exactly_ why? That was a little bit worse. Being big and tired and bleeding a little bit? I can handle that, because next month I'll be done. We'll have a baby and now I know it's all going to be okay."

The pieces seemed to fall into place then as Sam likely flashed back to their conversation from just a few hours ago and Steve watched as his posture slowly began to ease. The strained look on his face inched away as Sam pressed his hand on top of Steve's and just let it sit there. "You know, I'm glad I married you."

Steve leaned in and kissed Sam firmly on the lips. "I am too."

"Well, since you're set on doing this the old fashioned way, I guess we're going to have to start looking up some videos on Lamaze classes and stuff."

"La what?"

Sam frowned. "Are you kidding me, man? Dude I've been giving you pregnancy books for months and you don't even know..."

"I'm just messing with you," Steve smirked before giving the side of his stomach a good pat. "Although I'm not sure how much good just breathing will do."


	7. Chapter 7

**April**

The babyshower was Pepper's idea, Steve knew it from the start because everything seemed very carefully planned and put together. Pepper was a kind and considerate person, but Steve had not gotten to know her very well during the time he had spent living in the Tower. Their paths simply never crossed as Pepper was often hard at work running Stark's company or managing Tony himself. When the two of them did interact, however, Steve found that they got along well even when there wasn't anyone like Tony or Sam around to bounce off of. The fact that Pepper had gone out of her way to arrange the shower was a clear sign that she did care about Steve and he silently promised himself to make a greater effort to get to know her better in the future.

The party was held in the wreck room, which was decorated with soft pink and baby blue streamers along with a series of white balloons filled with what looked like confetti and tied off with pacifiers. There were two tables, one filled with baby themed snacks (cupcakes that looked like sleeping infants, sugar cookies in the shape of rattles, and a giant three tiered cake topped with a remarkably large stroller made of fondant) and the other cluttered with presents (the more massive of which Steve assumed Pepper had purchased in the guise of being from her _and_ Tony). On the other side of the room was a series of games all of which centered on guessing something about Steve's pregnancy; how much the baby would weigh, how many inches it would measure, and whether it was a boy or a girl.

The crowd was small, yet impressive given the short time frame. Sam's mother was there naturally and she seemed more delighted to loop her arm around Steve's and introduce him as her son-in-law than mingle one on one with the actual Avengers themselves. 

Thor had flown in from London along with his friend Jane Foster who seemed ready to switch her field of study from astrology to biology when she caught sight of Steve's massive stomach. "There's a baby in there!" she had gushed in scientific glee as she pressed her tiny hands against Steve's hardened middle. "A real human baby!" Jane hadn't asked for permission before touching, but he allowed it after catching a glimpse of the bemused look on Thor's face.

Thor for his part did not appear to be the least bit astonished by Steve's pregnancy or marriage, but that was no real surprise. Thor never seemed phased by the truly bizarre things, which was either a result of those events being common place where he came from or a general acceptance about all the oddities that the galaxy had to offer. He did, however, express his approval by offering Sam's back a friendly pat powerful enough to crack ribs before presenting them with a massive battle ax tied with a silver bow. "For the baby," he had told them calmly.

"Of course it is," Sam smirked gently, although Steve had a feeling he would likely keep the ax for himself.

Natasha had shown up as well with Clint in tow and Steve had to wonder just how Pepper had managed to get in touch with either of them when they were supposed to be deep undercover searching out Hydra. "Fury sends his regards," Natasha told them by way of greeting as she handed Steve a brown bag that looked as if it had been stepped on a few times on its way to being lost in baggage claim. 

"Shit, you're massive," Clint said as he gaped at him in a way that said he had seen stranger things, but not in the last twenty four hours. "I mean, Natasha told me you were pregnant, but Jesus! How many babies do you have in there?"

Natasha smirked and offered Clint's side a good natured swat before steering his attention towards Sam. "Hawkeye, this is Falcon. Falcon, Hawkeye. Either of you boys care to get cracking on the bird puns?"

"Damn, she just swooped right in there, didn't she?" Sam grinned.

"Trust me, she's already tweeting about it," Clint returned

Steve did his best not to roll his eyes as Sam and Clint continued lobbying bad jokes at one another before deftly easing Natasha away from the two. "He's not here, is he?"

Natasha's face remained neutral, but Steve knew right away that she understood. "No, he's fixated on the mission. Flushing out Hydra's top priority. Besides, he told me you said for him to come back _after_."

"Well I didn't mean he _had to_ stay away 'til then," Steve sighed as he rubbed at his stomach. The baby was starting to respond to his frustration by getting jittery.

"He has a tendency to take things pretty literal lately," she shrugged.

Steve was about to question her more on Bucky's progress when Stark wandered towards them, carrying four baby bottles filled with something honey colored in his hands. "Agents Romanov and Barton, nice of you to drop by. Care for a drink?"

Sam's nose wrinkled as Stark pressed one of the bottles into his hand. He took a sniff and his frown deepened. "Did you put beer in these bottles?"

"I've got something stronger if you like," he smirked. Natasha shrugged, twisted the cap off of and took a careful sip from her bottle while Clint indifferently began suckling at the rubber teat. "By the way Cap, I heard about your little late night freak out last week. Looks like the creepy robot you didn't want watching you sleep actually came in handy." His grin widened as he rolled the remaining bottle carefully between his hands. "Sounds to me like somebody owes JARVIS an apology."

Steve huffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Really? You want me to apologize to JARVIS or the guy who created him?"

Tony shrugged. "Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate it too. By the way, sorry about not giving you a heads up about this," Stark waved his hand and motioned towards the entire room. "Pepper swore me to secrecy. But you'll love the gifts. Picked them out myself."

Sam coughed as he choked on the bottle that he had already nearly finished off. " _You_ picked out the gifts?" he asked skeptically as he wiped off the trail of beer dribbling down his chin.

"Yeah, well, Pepper picked them out, but I customized a few things."

Steve glanced over at Sam who looked about as uncertain as he felt. "Um, thank you Tony. That's very thoughtful."

"Don't worry about it. Remember, you two don't have to get out of here as soon as the baby's born. I can stretch out your lease for as long as you'd like."

Steve could feel the skeptical expression on Sam's face without bothering to glance in his direction, but that didn't stop him from turning to look his way just confirm what they were hearing. "We'll, uh, keep that in mind," Sam managed weakly.

Tony smiled and clapped Steve firmly on the shoulder before turning to face the rest of the room. "Everyone, I'd like to make a toast." His smile widened as the others all gathered around, all of them holding baby bottles with various colored liquids inside and Steve had to wonder whose idea it was to use bottles instead of glasses. Yet Tony very proudly raised his in the air like a salute when it became clear that he had everyone's attention. "I don't think I'm alone when I say that this situation is very weird, but I know that if anyone can handle it, it's you two. To Sam and Steve!" Tony raised his glass a touch higher as the others echoed his words and drank from their bottles. Tony swallowed and turned his smug smile back towards Sam. "And Wilson, since I never got a chance to say this at your wedding I just wanted to take a moment to say it now: you're a great guy, but God help you if you do anything to hurt my buddy here." 

Tony was laughing as he spoke, but there was something about the glint in his eyes that said he meant every word. Steve half expected Pepper to swat at Tony's arm or send him a scolding look, but she only gave a small supportive smile as she rubbed at his arm.

"Okay, man," Sam chuckled good naturedly as he held up his own bottle in a playfully defensive gesture. "I won't."

"Seriously now Sam," Bruce said with a teasing wag of his finger. "Don't hurt him."

"Because we can kill you," Clint laughed.

"It would suck, but it'd be easy," Natasha said grimly.

"It would be most unwise if you should harm my friend Rogers in anyway," Thor said soberly as Jane gave an unease laugh at his side.

"Really, now guys, for real?" Sam sputtered as he looked around the room filled with faces of varying levels of sincerity and malice. He nearly pouted as he turned towards Darlene. "Seriously, mom, help me out here."

"Alright, that's enough now," Darlene tutted as she wrapped her thing arms around Sam's and pulled him in. "Y'all have nothing to worry about. My Sammy's a good boy and he's going to be a good daddy."

Steve smiled, because he had a feeling he would remember the sight of Darlene glaring pointedly up at Thor for a very long time.

\--

Steve did his best not to pull too much of a face as Natasha ran her slim fingers through his hair, because he knew that was just the sort of thing she wanted him to do. He ducked his head slightly when she went from combing his hair to the side to scrapping at his scalp and found himself pinned with a small yet triumphant smirk. "Letting your hair grow out again?" Natasha asked coyly.

He frowned ruefully as he patted his hair back into place, doing his best to re-align the careful part without the aid of a mirror or comb. A few strands managed to slip away and slide back down in front of eyes. He had bangs again just like before, but the sides of his scalp was also longer, tickling at his ears annoyingly if he didn't smooth it down with gel first. "Haven't had a decent cut since leaving DC," Steve confessed, shrugging at the sight of Natasha's quiet bemusement. "Walking into a barbershop like _this_ isn't something I'm eager to do."

"I'm surprised Stark doesn't have a salon on one of these floors."

"He doesn't," Sam put in as he carried the bowl of popcorn in from the kitchen, "but he's offered to bring someone in just to give Steve a trim."

Steve didn't shrug this time, just shook his head and offered the sides of his stomach a firm pat as Natasha quirked a questioning brow. "I don't know what turned me off more, the idea of having a private barber or being seen like this in front of a stranger. Even if it is just one person on Stark's payroll..."

"Hey, I've still got my clippers under the sink," Sam reminded him as he sat down on Steve's left, setting the popcorn on his lap in order to give Steve better access to it. Natasha frowned across Steve's right side towards the out of reach bowl. "Just say the word and I can set you up with an old fashioned high and tight."

"I'll get back to you on that," Steve chuckled as he reached over and grabbed a few kernels. He wasn't exactly eager to sport a buzz cut, but he had to admit that a part of him was getting a bit tired of the long hair in certain patches.

"Yeah, until then, just enjoy the pregnancy hair," Natasha teased dryly, reaching up to brush back a few hairs from his brow. 

His hair had gotten a bit softer and thicker in the past few months and was growing a touch faster than usual. Steve had read about this sort of side effect being the result of the excess hormones that came along with the condition and knew that soon after there would be a bit of shedding. Suddenly the idea of a buzz cut didn't seem so strange.

Natasha pulled her hand away from Steve in order to very nimbly reach over him and into the bowl of popcorn on Sam's lap, scooping up a handful of kernels before leaning back to her end of the couch and popping one in her mouth. "So what are we watching tonight, dads?"

Steve smiled at Natasha's tone. He had told her ahead of time that he wasn't exactly the most thrilling company at the moment since a good majority of his day now consisted of either falling asleep in odd places or waddling his way to the bathroom, but to her credit Natasha didn't seem the least bit put off by the idea of spending a night on the couch with Steve and Sam watching movies. A part of him wanted to think that she missed him, because even before all the things that had transpired last April Steve and Natasha had gotten fairly close while working together as part of the STRIKE force team. The two hadn't exactly been the best of friends, but Steve felt confident in saying that a firm rapport had developed between them.

At the same time Steve felt a bit guilty, because even though he wanted to catch up with Natasha there was also a gnawing urge to question her more about Bucky. She had already told him he was doing better, but that wasn't enough information. It was hard to be satisfied with "better" in regards to someone who had been such a big part of your life, especially when he had been gone for years only to suddenly reappear. 

Steve was careful to cut off that train of thought in its tracks, because he knew if he dwelled on it too long in his current hormonal state he would start to cry. It was stupid to be so emotional over this, but Steve couldn't help dwelling on the fact that Bucky wasn't around, that he wouldn't be there. 

He rubbed a self conscious hand to his eyes, pleased when the palms came back dry, before clearing his throat and reaching for the remote. "Sam picked the movie," he explained in a voice he was glad to hear come out level and clear. "He said it was a classic."

"Total classic," Sam beamed. "Jurassic Park."

"Steve you should feel right at home," Natasha teased.

Steve rolled his eyes and hit play. The movie started and for the first half hour Steve was awake and eager to watch, but around the time of the second T-Rex attack his head began to bob as the energy seeped out of his body. He wasn't sure when he had fallen out, but when his eyes fluttered open again the credits were already rolling and his head was slumped against Sam's shoulder. The volume on the television had been lowered to a mere whisper and Sam and Natasha were speaking in hushed tones. It would have been easy for Steve to drift off again, but bits and pieces of their conversation slipped in and out of his ear.

"... wouldn't be surprised if he comes back sooner rather than later," Natasha was saying, the sound of a slight crunch telling him that she was still chewing on popcorn.

He felt Sam nod despite how careful he was being. One of his arms was slung over Steve's shoulders and Sam's hand offered his side a thoughtful rub. "Makes sense. It's something for him to fix on."

Natasha was quiet for a moment, likely pausing to swallow, before speaking again. "Every now and again he'd come up to me and say a number. I didn't think much of it at first, but then I realized he was counting the weeks."

"Damn. And he still didn't come."

"No. Like I told Steve, he takes things pretty literal. He said Steve asked if he'd come back after, so he probably thinks that meant he should stay away 'til then."

Another nod, slower this time, as Sam's grip tightened ever so slightly. "He misses him. A lot. I wanna give him his space about it, but..."

"Don't compare what you two have to what they had. It's completely different."

"I get that."

"He's nuts about you."

"Yeah, I know that too, but..." There was a pause, during which the only sound in Steve's ear was the steady thud of Sam's heartbeat. It was a pleasant rhythm, nearly enough to send Steve drifting back to sleep, but then Sam spoke again. "I feel like I fucked up sometimes. Like, I got something great, but I still don't know _why_ I have it, _why_ I was the one who got this lucky and then it's like because I don't get it, he thinks I might not want it."

"He definitely doesn't feel that way."

Sam shook his head. "I messed up with this whole marriage thing. I should have explained why I asked him, said that it wasn't just because I knocked him up, that it was because I wanted him to feel better about being knocked up. He's an old fashioned guy, you know? I figured, maybe, if he was married he'd be okay with the idea of having a kid because he'd _know_ for sure I wasn't going anywhere. But then he just kept freaking out and a part of me wanted to call off the whole thing off."

"It's best that you didn't. Besides, I'm sure he gets it. How could he not? The two of you are a pair of sickeningly sweet saps."

"I'm actually kinda proud of that. He deserves a bit of sickening sweetness."

"He does."

"Are you really planning to kill me if I mess this up?"

A soft huffing noise escaped Natasha, the closest she ever came to a full laugh when not playing a part for a mission. "Come on, Wilson, you know I don't make idle threats."

Sam laughed, deep and low in his chest and Steve curled closer to his warmth before allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

\--

Labor wasn't quite as bad as Steve had thought it would be. It started off as little twinges during the evening and shifted into sharper spikes as the night wore on. By around two am the bursts of pain were starting to get more pointed and steady, but Steve wasn't ready to go to the hospital just yet. He had read that it wasn't necessary to move to a medical facility until the contractions were coming every five minutes and his were still a good ten apart. 

He glanced over at Sam sleeping soundly beside him on the bed. Steve hadn't told him about the contractions, because he still remembered how panicked Sam had been about the prospect of the delivery and reasoned if anyone needed a full night's rest before hand then it was Sam.

He gently slipped out from between the sheets and padded into the living room. Steve had read that walking was good during labor, that the movements could help to ease the pain and he intended to take a little walk around the hall before coming back to fetch Sam. That had been the plan until Steve saw the shadowy figure sitting at the head of the breakfast table.

Steve stood back and blinked his eyes a few times against the darkness, attempting to make certain that what he was seeing was real and not some lingering dream or a pain induced delusion. When he felt certain that Bucky was really there he took a few steps closer and flicked the lights on. His eyes stung for a moment, but he managed to recover quickly.

Bucky blinked up at him, his eyes heavy against him. He could see that Bucky was not back to himself, but was better. His hair was shorter and less greasy and his face was clean shaven with a touch of color to it, but his gaze still felt a bit flat and impersonal as it bore into him and his posture was a bit too ridged. 

"I thought you were going to wait 'til after to come," Steve noted dryly as he pulled out a chair and took a seat across from him at the table.

"You're a day late," Bucky returned in a somewhat chiding tone. "It was supposed to be the twenty-eighth."

Steve groaned and pressed a hand to his stomach just as another contraction hit. He set his jaw and did his best to breathe through the pain. "Yeah," he managed to grind out as he felt his face burned red. "Sorry for the delay, but it looks like we're getting back on schedule now."

His eyes were screwed shut, but Steve still heard the scrape of the chair's legs against the wooden floorboards and shook his head in order to motion for Bucky to stay put. When he heard nothing else he knew that Bucky had stopped and before long Steve found himself huffing out a deep breath and leaning back in his seat.

"God, I need to do my breathing," Steve sighed as he sucked in air with deep greedy breathes. Feeling his chest burn like this sort of made him feel like he was having an asthma attack again, but that was different, this was different. He turned to Bucky to see that his eyes had gone a bit wider not from fear or worry, but out of recognition and Steve wondered if he had the same thought. "So you're remembering more, right?" Steve huffed as he motioned for Bucky to sit down again. He did, slow and stiff, easing back into the seat before slumping minutely against the frame. "Tell me what you remember. Take my mind off of this."

Bucky seemed to consider this for a moment before getting up, grabbing his chair and bringing it around in order to face Steve. He frowned at Steve's stomach, a sliver of which was peeking out from beneath the fabric of his t-shirt and then did something that Steve hadn't quite expected: he smirked. It was faint and didn't quite reach his eyes, but the gesture felt more sincere and human than anything Steve had seen on him in far too long. "You're a lot bigger."

Steve laughed and rubbed at his face, feeling a few trickles of sweat against his temple as his lips twitched with a grateful smile. He wasn't sure if Bucky was referring to the last time they had seen each other or to his old self, but the joke was enough to put him a bit more at ease. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Not for much longer though."

The small smirk faded away as Bucky seemed to consider what to say next. "Do you know what it is yet?"

He shook his head. "No, but I will soon enough." He sighed and rubbed at the side of his stomach. "This isn't so terrible, you know? Labor? I mean, it's no walk in the park, but it's not the worst thing I've been through." The look of hurt that flashed across Bucky's features was brief, but clear enough for Steve to catch it even if his posture hadn't changed. Steve frowned, mentally kicking himself for his choice of words. "Hey, Buck, I'm... You didn't know."

The silence that followed his words was heavy, broken only by the distant ticking of a clock and the slight creak of their chairs. Bucky looked at him for a moment with hollow eyes that seemed to be purposely distant. Steve knew right away that even if he forgave Bucky, it would still be a long time before Bucky could forgive himself for all the things he had done as the Winter Soldier.

"I should have jumped after you," Steve said suddenly. "On the train? I thought the fall had killed you, but a part of me still wanted to jump, wanted to see and bring you back... I would have survived and... I even if I hadn't I wish..."

His words were cut off by a sharp pang that caused a heavy groan to build in his throat. He grunted and leaned forward, the hands that had once been gently cradling his side now bunching up the already stretch fabric of his nightshirt until it began to tear.

"Shallow breaths, Steve," Bucky chided as he gently untangled Steve's fingers from their hold on his shirt and held them firmly in his own grasp. Bucky's metal palm was awkward to touch, cold and rough against his skin, but Steve pushed himself not to dwell on it. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Steve nodded and followed Bucky's directions, his mind drifting back to his youth and the many asthma attacks he and Bucky had worked through together. It wasn't long before the contraction had subsided and Steve was left feeling both lighter and weighed down as he sat there with their hands linked together.

A door creaked from behind as Sam came shuffling out of their bedroom and towards the breakfast nook, still half asleep and likely sock footed. Sam yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm as he came up behind Steve and looked between the two of them. A tired grin spread across his face as his eyes landed on Bucky. "Could've at least called if you were planning to stop by," he joked before glancing down at their joined hands. "Not gonna kiss again, are you?"

Bucky stiffened in what looked distantly like embarrassment, but his hold on Steve never wavered as he met Sam's gaze. "He's in labor." 

"Shit, Steve."

"You rat," Steve grumbled at Bucky, before turning to Sam. "It's not bad. Nothing's broken. I'm still ten minutes apart."

Sam shook his head and groped at the phone that was not in his pocket. "Yeah, well you still should have said something," he huffed as he walked over to the phone mounted against the kitchen wall. "We still need to call Strange and get him down here. Hopefully he's not busy performing brain surgery on the Pope or something."

" _Sirs, I have already taken the liberty of notifying Dr. Banner,_ " JARVIS announced before Sam could even finish punching in the numbers on the phone pad. " _Shall I also send for another medical team to escort Captain Rogers to the medical center?_ "

Sam responded with an anxious "yes," that was buried by Steve's exasperated "no!" 

"I'm fine," Steve assured Sam (as well as Bucky and JARVIS) as he stood securely on his own two feet. "I can still walk."

Sam rolled his eyes, but relented. "Fine. We'll walk your pregnant ass to the elevator just as soon as I pull on some pants." He made to head back to the bedroom before stopping and turning towards Bucky. "You coming with us?"

Steve did his best not to stare at Bucky with too much hope in his eyes as Bucky looked back and forth between them with a somewhat uncertain expression. "No," he said after a moment, shaking his head as if to show his certainty. "No, I'll... I'm going to stay here. I'll come after."

"Okay," Steve told him even though he wanted to tell Bucky to come. A strong part of him wanted so desperately to tell Bucky that he wanted him in the room with them, that Bucky wouldn't be intruding and that Steve would appreciate his support, but he reined that part of himself in. Bucky was better, was coming back to himself, but pushing for too much too soon could have terrible results. Sam looked to Steve, careful and worried, as Steve nodded his head and slipped his hand into Sam's palm. "That's okay."

Sam gave a brief nod before leading Steve into their room where they dressed quickly and silently before grabbing their phones and keys and heading out the door. "It'll probably be a long wait," Sam warned Bucky as they made their way towards the door, "so make yourself at home. We'll call you down?"

Bucky nodded and Steve did his best not to make his smile too sad as they walked out the door.

-

It was nearly three in the morning by the time they made it to the Tower's medical level, but labor lasted another five hours. It was enough time for Banner to call up Strange, who arrived at four am and helped to check Steve's progress. Banner and Strange popped in and out of the hospital room every now and again, periodically checking to make sure that it was still safe to proceed without surgery as well as without sedatives. 

Sam and Steve passed the time listening to music and going over the list of baby names they had been working on since January. Every few minutes a contraction would hit and Sam would ask Steve if he was certain he didn't want an epidural and Steve just kept saying "no" even when the contractions grew longer and more intense.

By eight fifteen Bruce and Strange determined that Steve was ready to proceed and by eight thirty-two he delivered an eleven pound six ounce baby girl. Steve wept openly from the moment she was laid on his chest, his eyes fixed on the pink little face even with his vision blurred by the steady flow of tears. She had a flat nose, bright red lips, and a head full of fine black hair. Despite being what Bruce called above average in size, she still seemed impossibly small and delicate cradled in his arms.

"God, Sam, we made this," Steve sobbed as he held the little bundle against his chest. "We made her!"

Sam nodded at his side, too overcome with emotion to say or do anything more than stare along with him as he sat on the edge of the narrow bed with one arm draped across the pillows behind Steve's back and the other hand pressed on his forearm. "Yeah," he managed to choke out in a voice that was small and raspy. "Yeah we did." 

"I don't think I've ever been this happy," he laughed, "but I can't stop crying!"

Sam chuckled and kissed his temple, his lips lingering against Steve for far longer than necessary, but Steve just smiled and leaned into his touch. "You did good today, Cap," he breathed, the words muffled but warm against his flushed skin and Steve managed to tear his eyes away long enough to meet Sam's gaze. His eyes were red and tender, filled with so much emotion that Steve felt certain he could drown in it. Sam flashed him a watery smile before leaning in to kiss him again. "You're a champ."

"Well, it helps that I had a good wingman," Steve whispered back.

A light rap cut through their conversation as Bruce entered, standing in the doorway with a wry smile, his posture making his reluctance to intrude on the moment pointedly clear. "Hey, just popping in to check up on the patients," he explained, his gaze shifting between Steve and the newborn in his arms.

"Great," Steve assured him as he bounced the baby in his arms. She had cried for a good half hour before drifting into a deep sleep. Every now and again she would make soft little noises and flex her tiny fingers in the air but was otherwise silent and still in Steve's embrace. "We're great."

Bruce smiled, but still stepped forward in order to get a closer look. Steve relaxed his grasp enough to allow Bruce to gently study the infant's legs and feet, feeling her body and head for any signs of injury or deformity as he had done earlier and once again finding not a single blemish. "She's a perfectly healthy baby," Bruce announced, speaking the words as if he was still having a bit of trouble accepting that fact. Yet when he smiled at Sam and Steve it was with genuine relief. "You should be very proud."

"We are," Sam said as he pressed another kiss to Steve's sweat dampened brow.

"Thank you, Bruce," Steve told him sincerely as he rearranged the baby's blankets. "Thank you for everything."

"Hey, I didn't do much," he chuckled with a dismissive wave of his hand, but Steve could tell that Bruce appreciated it. He could tell that Bruce lived for moments like this, moments where he could do even a little bit of good without having to rely on the Other Guy's potentially dangerous brute force. "But, you know Steve, _you_ did just go through a lot. I think it's time you got some rest."

His gaze drifted back to the newborn held against his heart and Steve found himself reluctantly shaking his head as his thumb brushed against the full round cheeks poking out from the folds of the hospital blanket. "No. No I'm okay." 

Bruce's features turned somewhat stern as he met Steve's frown with one of his own. "Steve, you need to get some rest," he chided. "You've been up for hours and your body needs some time to mend." 

"C'mon, Steve, let me hold her for a bit," Sam reasoned as he rubbed at Steve's bare arm. "Nothing bad is gonna happen while you sleep."

He looked from Sam's pleading gaze to Bruce's firm scowl before heaving a reluctant sigh and carefully handing the baby over to Sam. There was a brief, displeased gurgle that came from the unexpected transition, but Sam was easily able to sooth the newborn back to her deep sleep as he held her naturally against him. Steve smiled as he watched Sam coo and make goofy faces at their baby, his heart feeling warm and light even as the rest of him began to feel weighed down and sore. He caught a glimpse of Bruce making his quiet exit from the corner of his eyes as his lids began to droop.

"You gonna give Bucky a call?" Steve yawned as he settled himself against the pillows stacked behind him.

"Not right now," Sam said softly. He still sat perched on the edge of the bed and managed to drape the blankets across Steve's shoulders with one hand while still cradling the baby with the other. "You just go to sleep. When you wake up, we can talk baby names."

Steve hummed, already feeling his eyes slip shut despite his protests. "Sarah," he murmured. "I wanna call her Sarah."

He could feel the curve of a smile on Sam's lips as he pressed another kiss to his cheek. "Sure thing, baby. Now get some sleep."

-

It was hours later by the time Steve woke up, a fact that he knew for certain when he opened his eyes to see that the room was darkened by more than just the curtains pulled shut against the glass. His body was still sore, but the tightness of his stomach told him clearly that it was mending. In no time at all he would be up and running again and Steve took comfort in the idea of potentially being able to go back to his old intense exercise regiment and leave behind the light baby friendly routine he had been forced into these past few months.

"You gotta hold her head like this," he heard Sam saying from the other side of the room. "Give her neck plenty of support. It's delicate."

A soft, unhappy gurgle broke through the room, followed by Sam's soothing whispers. Steve blinked his eyes sluggishly before attempting to carefully push himself into a sitting position. His stomach stung in protest, but he managed to adjust himself enough to catch sight of Bucky sitting in the hospital chair by his bed cradling an infant in his arms. Bucky's face was somewhere between bored and flustered as he sat with stiff arms and a too rigid back, holding the newborn in a very clinical embrace. Steve could see from the little fingers poking out from between the slips of fabric that the infant was awake and unhappy, despite Sam's attempts to soothe her, but the fact that Bucky was radiating tension was not helping her to calm down.

"Hey, man, you gotta relax," Sam chided as he crouched down in front of Bucky in an attempt to move his arms into a more natural position and while Bucky was allowing himself to be molded, he was having some trouble imitating a stance that was filled with gentle care. "She can sense that you're nervous."

"I thought she was a baby, not a dog," Bucky grumbled in a way that was shockingly close to an actual joke.

Sam likely caught this as well, but he only smiled slightly while being careful not to shine too much of a light on Bucky's healthy mannerisms. "Yeah, well, babies are pretty much like puppies," he joked. "Except they eventually learn to talk and walk on two legs."

Bucky nodded stiffly, before looking down at the baby in his arms. Her cries had grown softer and less desperate and Steve had a feeling she was already on the verge of falling asleep. "She looks like him," Bucky noted. "The way he used to look."

Sam's grin widened as he leaned over and gently touched the tips of his fingers to the infant's cheek. "Yeah. Well hopefully she gets her smarts from me."

"Hopefully," Bucky agreed flatly before turning to look back at Sam. "What's her name?"

"Steve wants to call her Sarah."

His eyes widened slightly at that. "His mother's name." Sam nodded as Bucky's gaze drifted downward again. "That's a good name."

Steve was tempted to interrupt the scene, to make his presence known by asking to hold the baby, but he was still tired and didn't want to disturb the moment. Instead he smiled quietly to himself as he settled back against the bed and drifted back to sleep listening to Sam and Bucky speak in hushed tones over the baby.

\--

The next time Steve woke up it was with a metal hand nudging his shoulder and the sound of soft baby whimpers. He blinked his eyes a few times before stiffly pushing himself into a sitting position and gazing up at Bucky's strained expression. The baby was still tucked into the crook of his arm, but she was whining now, little fists waving in displeasure and feet kicking ever so slightly against the blankets wrapped around her little body.

"Your husband stepped out for coffee and she wants a dad," Bucky told him and Steve knew more from the desperate gleam in his eyes than the flat tone of his voice that Bucky was eager to hand the baby off to someone else.

"No nurses on the floor then?" Steve chuckled as he smiled and accepted the offered bundle into his embrace. The fussy sobs almost instantly subsided the moment the newborn's cheek touched his shoulder and Steve couldn't help grinning as he dropped a kiss to the spot on her forehead just below the edge of the stripped cotton cap. He soothed her until there were only slight whimpers emitting from little red lips and Bucky seemed to visibly relax at the sight.

"Are you going to feed her?" Bucky asked curiously.

Steve frowned at the question, looking around the room. It was morning again and he was feeling more alert and less sore than he had been the previous day, a clear sign of his body being hard at work mending itself. "Uh, I dunno. I don't have a bottle." Bucky's expression didn't change, but his eyes began to stare pointedly at Steve's chest. He flushed at the sight. "I... Oh... I don't know if I can do that."

Bucky shrugged and pulled up a chair. "Well, she hasn't eaten in a while."

Steve snorted at the comment as Bucky sat down beside him. "Don't worry. I'm not going to let her starve. Just not ready to test out that theory yet. Especially not in front of an audience."

Bucky smirked at him, that hollow gesture that wasn't quite natural but gave Steve hope each time he saw it. "How many times have I seen your scrawny ass naked, punk?"

He smiled at that, chuckling and pressing another kiss to the baby, this time dropping it to her flat little nose. "More times than I care to remember," he admitted before experimentally pressing the tip of his finger to little red lips. It didn't take long for the baby to gurgle before latching on, sucking intensely in the hopes of food. "Yeah, she's hungry. Better call for a nurse."

Steve shifted in order to reach towards the call button, but stopped when he noticed that the look on Bucky's face had shifted into a thoughtful sort of frown. "You're a dad."

"I know. It's crazy, right? I was carrying this in my gut for nine months!" The smile he had been sporting began to falter when Bucky's expression only continued to darken the longer he gazed at the baby in Steve's arms. He was starting to understand what Bucky was getting at and the familiar guilt was beginning to gnaw at his belly once more. "Look, Buck, you're free to stay with us for as long as you like. I want you to stick around, get to know her better. You're a part of this."

Bucky's head was already shaking before Steve could even finish speaking, his back going that much straighter as a thought settled in his mind. "She doesn't need me. She's got you, she's got your husband. I'm a killer. Kids shouldn't be around killers."

"You're not a killer, Buck."

"I know what I am, Steve." He stood up, straight and tall, his jaw set and fist curled at his side. Steve could feel his insides grow heavy and cold as Bucky's eyes swept across the room, to the slowly rising sun just outside the window and towards the door that had been left slightly ajar from Sam's departure. "I have work to do in Europe," he told him stiffly. "Your husband, Sam, he's a good guy. Let him take care of you." He lifted a hand, his real hand, towards the baby, brushing calloused fingers lightly across delicate skin. "Thanks for letting me meet her."

"Don't let this be the last time," Steve said firmly. "You're her Uncle Bucky and that means you have to be there. Maybe not always, but for the important things. You gotta be there."

A ghost of a smile pulled at Bucky's lips as he lifted his hand in order to give Steve's shoulder a quick squeeze. "Goodbye, Steve. Goodbye, Sarah."

It was a struggle, but Steve managed to hold back his emotions long enough to allow the choked "Goodbye Buck" out just as Bucky pulled the door open and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

**May**

Having a baby in the Tower had changed their living situation greatly. Before Sarah was born, Sam and Steve could stay in their quarters for hours or even days on end without seeing any of the other residence -- Pepper often being tied up with business dealings, while Tony and Bruce worked on their own projects around the clock without giving much thought to anyone or anything else -- yet now that they had a new member of the family, there seemed to be a constant stream of visitors at their door.

Sam's mother was practically living with them now, stopping by early in the morning to help the two of them start the day and staying well into the evening to make certain that Sarah was put down properly for the night. Darlene adored her new granddaughter just as Sam had predicted and seemed obsessed with showering her with attention as well as giving Sam and Steve plenty of well intended advice. "Now remember to keep her wrapped up nice and tight. Babies love being swaddled." "Feed her slowly now. Don't want the baby to choke on that milk." "Remember Steve: when she's sleeping, you should be sleeping. Don't let that super soldier energy fool you, babies can drain you fast!"

"When we move outta here, we're moving _way_ up state," Sam had joked one night while he and Steve were falling asleep on the couch as Darlene gave them yet another lecture on the importance of frequent diaper checks. "I'm talking near the Canadian border. Matter fact, what do you think about becoming 'Captain Canada'?"

Tony and Pepper also became frequent visitors to their apartment, Tony mainly to check up on their equipment and offer to modify anything they wanted ("Tony I appreciate the gesture, but I don't think we _need_ a stroller with vertical thrusters.") while Pepper came by to coo over Sarah while offering Steve advice on his inevitable statement to the press about his current living situation.

"I understand that you want to keep your personal life private Steve and I respect your decision to have your family stay out of the spotlight, but you've disappeared from the public eye for over a year and rumors are already starting to fly out of hand." Pepper's tone was gentle although her demeanor showed nothing but level certainty, even as she gently bounced Sarah's blanketed body in her thin arms. Steve had to marvel at how naturally she could cradle a babe in her arms while still giving off a very businesslike aura, but he supposed he should have expected nothing less from Pepper Potts. "You're married and your baby is already here, there's nothing the public could do to take that away from you, but the longer you hide it all..."

"A year ago, SHIELD dragged my name through the mud thanks to the Hydra insiders," Steve countered as neutrally as possible. "Before that I had my name and face slapped on so much campy merchandise I couldn't walk down the street without seeing myself plastered on some cheap advertisement." The urge to glower was tempting, but it was hard to do anything other than smile at the sight of Sarah, little fists peeking out from the folds of the pink and white striped blanket swaddling her. "For the first time since before the serum, I have something that's just mine and I want to keep it that way for as long as possible."

He could tell by the set in her jaw and the worry in her eyes that Pepper hadn't exactly been pleased with that answer, but she was willing to accept it and put the discussion on hold for the time being.

\--

Thor and Jane came back from London once again after Sarah was brought home. They were both curious to see the baby, Thor because he had yet to see what a child of "Midgard" looked like up close while Jane's scientific fascination with the situation hadn't dissipated a bit since the baby shower.

"She looks so... normal," Jane said as she studied the tiny little bundle held in Thor's muscular arms. Her voice was both intrigued and disappointed by this discovery, but hearing his baby described as "normal" was music to Steve's ears.

By two and a half weeks it was starting to become obvious that Sarah was developing like a regular baby. She was gaining weight at an average speed, and developing minute observations and motor skills normally. Bruce's theory was that her unusual size at birth was likely due to feeding off Steve's nutrients and while her own body was healthy, she showed no indication of accelerated metabolism, stamina, or abnormal strength levels. Steve was relieved by the news, content to know that even if anything were to happen he would still have Bruce around to help manage it.

Yet other changes were taking place every day. Her skin had slowly shifted from strawberry red to a soft brown as the black hairs on her head gradually began to curl. Her eyes, which had settled into a sharp blue similar to Steve's, were starting to stay open longer and turned more observant as new noises were slowly starting to spill from her still red lips.

"She is small, but already I can see a great strength in her much like her fathers," Thor noted as he smiled broadly down at the little baby. Sarah's wide eyes were fixed on the golden face beaming above her, gazing at Thor's features the way she often did when someone new held her in his arms. Sarah didn't cry as often as most babies did, but she had a tendency to stare intensely at new faces before being handed off to Sam or Steve, when she would close her eyes and relax in their embrace. Thor's deep voice was likely a new experience for her little ears as she tended to flinch slightly when he spoke and Steve had to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. "A mighty warrior she shall be!"

"I'm actually kinda hoping Sarah stays away from that in the future," Steve confessed, doing his best to offer Thor an apologetic grin.

The disappointed pout on Thor's face was enough to make Sam snort, but he recovered himself quickly as Thor glanced over at Jane. "A scientist, then?" Thor suggested, his words bringing an eager smile to Dr. Foster's face as one of her small hands reached over and gave his arm a tender squeeze. 

"Maybe," Sam shrugged. "It's a bit too early to be picking careers."  
\--

 

Despite the fact that it was late spring and the last lingering winter chills had long since evaporated, Steve found himself waking with a start as a sudden coolness crept up his back. His nerves felt as if they had been hit with a jolt as he sat up suddenly in bed, his ears straining against the stillness of the night and his eyes blinking rapidly against the dark in order to focus and look through the gloom. He sat erect in bed amongst the tangled sheets and pillows for several long agonizing seconds for some sign of a disturbance or something off, but was rewarded only with the sound of Sam's steady breathing. 

His shoulders slumped as he sat back in bed, sweat pouring down his suddenly flushed skin as his heart pounded against his chest with the realization that everything was fine. He looked towards the bright numbers lighting the face of the bedside clock which proclaimed the time as just after two in the morning, before looking past it in order to gaze at the baby monitor propped up against the base of a lamp. Steve sighed and grabbed the small hunk of plastic in his hands and pulled it towards his side order to get a better look at the startlingly clear image of Sarah, fast asleep in her crib. She was bundled up safe and sound in her padded crib, dreaming peacefully, but somehow the sight of her through a monitor wasn't enough as the urge to hold her in his arms clawed at his skin.

He spared a glance over at Sam, deep asleep and pressed face first into his pillow with the blankets pooling around his waist. Steve took a moment to pull the sheets up to Sam's shoulder in order to cover his bare back before gently easing himself out of bed. He didn't bother to slide into his slippers or robe before padding out the door and down the hall to Sarah's room. 

The nursery was only half assembled and filled mainly with the gifts they had received from the baby shower. Steve had to admit that he felt guilty for not taking the time to properly paint and decorate, but he and Sam had yet to decide whether or not they would be staying in the Tower for a full year, but the prospect of looking for houses with an infant was less than enticing for either of them. 

What's more, Steve was starting to have doubts about his original choice to leave Stark's tacky building as soon as possible. Out in the world they were vulnerable and exposed, but in the Tower they had top of the line security system along with a medical center available twenty four hours a day and with Steve still feeling uncertain about Sarah's development, it was comforting to know that Bruce was near and available if anything should arise.

Steve crept up to the padded metal bars of the crib as gently as he could manage in order to make certain not to disturb Sarah. He watched her breathing, calm and even, and was once again struck by how incredibly small she looked. Gentle groans and coos periodically escaped her little lips as her heavy lashes fluttered against her full cheeks. He hesitated for a moment before reaching into the crib and gently scooping Sarah into his arms. She stiffened and sniffled for a moment, but a gentle kiss to her brow and a few tender strokes to her back was enough to get Sarah settled again. He watched as she opened her mouth in a long yawn before scrunching her little face and resting her head against Steve's chest. 

His heart melted the way it often did at the sight of her. He sighed and pressed another kiss to her cheek, breathing in her scent and soaking up the warmth of the delicate little body in his arms. Already he could feel the tension easing from his body as he rocked Sarah against him. Somehow having her near and being able to see that she was safe with his own eyes made him feel as if he were able to breathe again.

"Love you, Sarah," Steve whispered gently as he dropped another kiss to the tip of her nose, the base of her chin, and the top of her head. It was hard to remember at times that she had once been inside of him, that he had been frightened of the very idea of her, but now when he closed his eyes and thought about a life without Sarah he suddenly felt cold and empty. He sighed and rubbed at her back, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "Love you so much." 

He stayed with her like that for another hour, before Sarah started to fuss and whine into his chest as a dampness spread against her bottom. Steve easily changed and fed her, before rocking and soothing until Sarah drifted back to sleep in his arms once again. He rocked with her in the rocking chair in the room until his own eyes felt too heavy to hold up.

\--

"Hold the phone a bit lower, Rogers, I still can't see."

Steve did as he was directed, tilting the phone slightly so that its camera caught a better angle of its subject. He could see from the display that most of his face was now out of frame, but Sarah's body took up the majority of the lower edge of the screen. He tipped the phone more until he could barely see the display, but Sarah's entire form engulfed the corner image. "Can you see her now?"

"I can see her," Natasha confirmed. The angle was too awkward for him to get a clear view of her reaction, but he could just barely make out the slight markings of a smile curling her lips. "Not as big as I was expecting."

"She's normal baby size," Steve said in a voice he hoped did not come off as too defensive. Sarah shifted in his arms, little fingers coming to rub at her eyes, only to miss and land on her nose instead. Steve chuckled and did his best to resist the urge to kiss her tiny fingers for fear of losing the prefect angle. "Say hello to your Auntie Tasha," he cooed openly, catching the tail end of an eye roll from the screen.

"I'm not signing off on that name," Natasha chided. He saw the image jostle slightly as Natasha adjusted the camera in her hands. "She looks just like you."

"Yeah, everybody says that," he grinned proudly. It was nearly impossible not to grin whenever Sarah was around. "I think she takes after Sam though."

Sarah gurgled against him, her legs shifting as her arms pulled back until they were tucked against her chest once more. Steve could tell from the way she was curling towards his warmth that Sarah was getting ready to drift off again. "Natasha, I was wondering..."

"Hold on a second," Natasha told him when a door creaked open in the background. He watched as the video jostled again, Natasha's face slipping from view as she walked over to meet someone. After a few seconds of rough flickering between the floor and the walls, the camera finally focused on Fury's face, his features pulled into his usual indifferent glower as he stared into the camera. "Nick, meet Steve's baby."

Steve adjusted his own phone slightly in order to get a better look at Sarah's face, which was turning further inward towards him with every passing second. Her breathing had already evened out by the time he was able to get a good shot and was rewarded with the sound of a short, approving chuckle. "Cute," Fury said simply, his lips quirked into a smile that was surprisingly genuine just before he stepped out of view. 

"Okay," Natasha began again as she pulled the phone back towards her own face and began walking to the other side of the room. "What were you about to ask?"

It was obvious from the pointed tone of her voice that she already knew exactly what he was going to say, but Steve went for it anyway. He sighed and lifted the phone so that the camera was now focused on him while Sarah dozed quietly against his chest. "It's been a while since I've last seen Bucky. I was wondering if you knew anything."

Natasha sighed, her slightly shorter red hair fluttering around her deceptively soft features as she shifted in feigned annoyance. "We parted ways two weeks ago. Haven't heard from him since. His main focus is still Hydra, I have other things to work on." She seemed to hesitate for a moment before adding a tight, "sorry."

"It's okay," Steve told her even if the disappointment was too strong to hide. He sighed and looked down at Sarah, fast asleep in his arms and breathing evenly as her long lashes fluttered against her full cheeks. He could feel the tiny little puffs of breath through the fabric of his shirt and this time he did not resist the urge to drop a kiss to the top of her little head. "It's okay."

\--

"She looks just like you," Peggy told him, her voice fond and distant as she gazed down at Sarah's little face peeking out from the blankets swaddling her little body. Her pale fingers brushed against the baby's round cheeks, pale alabaster sweeping over skin the color of coffee with too much cream. Steve watched Peggy's eyes waver slightly as she rocked Sarah with practiced ease. "Just like you were when we first met; small and delicate and full of spirit."

Steve chuckled as he leaned forward in his chair in order to reach out a hand and adjust the folds of the blankets around Sarah only to have Peggy's bony fingers brush him away. "Well, she's not exactly like me," he shrugged as his eyes flickered from the way Sarah was gazing up at Peggy, her little face surprisingly serious as she stared up at the woman above her, to the churning emotions passing over Peggy's eyes. "She's... healthy."

Peggy turned to him and smiled in a way that let him know he was dwelling. "You could have told me," she chided gently as her eyes shifted back to Sarah. "You should have told me."

The words felt like a jab to his heart and Steve suddenly felt his insides twisting with shame. "You're right. I should have. I guess I was just ashamed... I didn't know what you would think of me. I didn't want to know." He sighed and watched the way Peggy's frail hands held Sarah with such certainty, the sort of experienced effortlessness that came with holding many children and grandchildren and even a few great grand children. He had been hesitant at first to put Sarah in her arms, but Peggy had insisted so vigorously that he couldn't help but to give in to the request. "I guess I'm not ashamed anymore."

"It all changes, doesn't it?" Peggy chuckled knowingly as she bounced Sarah's blanketed body easily against her. "The moment they're laid against your chest, nothing else matters. Not even little things like pride or modesty. You just look into those eyes and realize your whole world has changed."

He nodded easily at that, his lips curling fondly as he recalled the first time he heard Sarah's wet cries piercing the air and how easy it had been to fall in love with her.

"I would have made something for her," she told him suddenly. "Could have taught you how to knit if you wanted."

"Well, I'm decent enough with a needle and thread," he shrugged, but Peggy was quick to go on.

"When my oldest was born I made everything from booties to blankets for him. I can still knit a bonnet with my eyes closed." 

Steve did his best to swallow the laugh bubbling in his throat as Peggy stared disdainfully at the store bought cap on Sarah's head, one of the many gifts from Sam's mother. It was lilac with a little flower blooming out against the hem, but Peggy's gaze was less than admiring. "That's very sweet of you, Peg, but..."

"There's yarn in the basket by the door," she told him firmly, craning her head in the direction in order to emphasize her point. "Fetch it for me."

He shook his head fondly as he stood and walked toward the small plastic bin. There were three balls of hand rolled yarn; a small roll of navy blue, a large bundle of canary yellow, and a medium sized wheat colored ball. He grabbed the yellow along with a pair of needles before walking back to Peggy's bedside. She smiled appreciatively as she exchanged Sarah for the yarn and Steve's ears were instantly met with the usual fussy gurgling noise that Sarah made whenever she was passed from one person to the next. Steve responded with a kiss to each cheek and the tip of her nose before settling back against the padded back of his chair.

"So where's this man of yours, Steve?" Peggy asked already fast at work with her knitting, the steady click of the tips of the needles filling the air. Her eyes were fixed on the perfect chains of yarn looping in her lap, but Steve had a feeling that Peggy could indeed have carried on just fine without staring so intensely. "I was hoping to get a chance to meet him."

"Sam didn't want to intrude," he said with an apologetic smile. "He thought it would be best for me to go alone, keep this between just you and me."

Peggy chuckled quietly to herself at that. "Thoughtful," she said. "Just the sort of man you need. Well next time you're in town, bring him along. I'd love to meet the man who could make you smile like that."

He ducked his head as he felt his cheeks begin to flush. "I doubt you'll be disappointed," he chuckled softly. "He's pretty amazing."

\--

Steve took in deep, heavy breathes, one right after the other as Bruce pressed the flat end of his stethoscope against his bare chest, a look of deep concentration on his face as he listened carefully before making notes on his tablet. "Well, you certainly seem to be recovering well," Bruce noted as he pressed the tips of his finger gently against Steve's flat stomach, prodding lightly against the spot on his abdomen that just last month had been split open. It was completely healed now, little more than just a pink scar that was growing fainter with each passing day. "Everything seems to have snapped back rather nicely."

Steve shrugged at the sight of his stomach, which was now as hard and toned as it had been before everything had happened. Stark had commented that it was impossible to tell that Steve had ever been pregnant and Steve felt both grateful and a bit frightened at that. It was starting to become clear that there wasn't much his body couldn't do or recover from.

"Honestly, I think I dropped about fifteen pounds within the first three days after the birth," Steve said candidly. He flexed his arm muscles as he gripped the edge of the exam table as the chill of the central air spread goose bumps across his bare skin. 

Bruce gave a small, thoughtful hum as he made note of this fact on his computer. "That's impressive," he chuckled lightly. "Other than the weight loss, how have things been? Any problems or discomforts?"

"No," Steve told him with a slight shake of his head. "I was a bit sore at first, but that only lasted a day or two."

Again Bruce nodded as he recorded the information. "And you haven't noticed any... physical changes?" Banner asked, making a vague sort of gesture with his hands as if to emphasize his point or prod him on.

Steve only shrugged and shook his head again. "Nothing. I'm almost completely back to normal."

Bruce nodded and leaned back in his seat, scientific curiosity melting away in favor of an awkward yet friendly grin. "And how have you and Sam been?"

"Tired mostly," Steve said with a weary laugh. "Having Sarah has been a bit of a challenge. I mean, she sleeps nearly all day and hardly cries, but..." He sighed and rubbed at his arm, feeling each individual prickle against his fingers and palm. "It's an adjustment again."

The small smile turned a touch easier and sympathetic as Bruce nodded along. "It tends to be, especially for first time parents." 

There was a note of envy in Banner's voice and a faint glimmer of longing in his eyes. It was something that Steve had noticed on and off when discussing his pregnancy with Bruce, but it seemed to have grown more prevalent now that Sarah was now out and in the world. A heavy weight settled on Steve's heart as the sense of pity he had always felt for Bruce welled up inside of him. For all of his own longings for a normal life and a family, Steve had never felt that those things were completely beyond him, but for Bruce it was all an impossible dream. 

"Have you been getting much sleep?" Bruce asked, the sudden question enough to pull Steve out of his musings.

"Some," he sighed, only to find his words turning to a yawn at the mere mention of sleep.

The light hearted look all but evaporated off of Bruce's naturally weary features at the unconscious gesture. "I see," he noted sternly as he put the tablet aside and crossed his arms over his chest. "And I suppose 'some' means 'barely enough to keep functioning'?" Bruce titled his head up and gazed at the ceiling tiles. "JARVIS? How much sleep has Steve gotten each night in the last four week?"

" _According to my records, Dr. Banner, in the past four weeks Captain Rogers has logged an average of two and a half hours of sleep each night. Discounting the near twelve hours he had received after the delivery, of course._ "

"Of course," Banner repeated wearily as he leaned forward and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

Steve straightened his back, feeling guilt and indignation begin to churn inside of him. "I'm fine, Bruce," he insisted stubbornly. "I know my body. I know what it can take."

"Really, Steve? Because nine months ago you didn't even know you could have children this way." Banner shifted in his seat, the joints of his chair squeaking somewhat as he leaned forward in order to rest his elbows on his knee. "Seriously Steve, you're not doing yourself or your family any favors by pushing yourself to exhaustion. You need to try to get some rest. Maybe... maybe have Sam's mom watch the baby for a night?"

"No, no Sarah's not leaving the tower," he said flatly. "It's safest here."

Bruce's frown deepened at the firm tone, but he soldiered on as if he had been half expecting that sort of response. "Then maybe you should get away? Maybe have a night out with Sam?"

Steve grimaced as everything inside of him went uncomfortably tense at Bruce's innocent suggestions. He couldn't understand why this was bothering him so much, but the very idea of leaving Sarah alone for more than an hour pained him like a hot ball of lead burning a hole in the pit of his stomach. In that moment the urge to be near Sarah spread through him like a small fire as his arms ached to hold her little body against his chest, listen to her gentle breathing and know without a shadow of doubt that she was safe and sound.

"Look, Bruce, I know that you mean well and all, but I'm just fine." Steve hopped off of the edge of the bench and made a grab for his shirt, pulling it over his head a bit too quickly and mussing his hair in the process. He could see Bruce's disapproving scowl even as he moved towards the door, but pushed the thought out of his mind. Being with Sarah was the only important thing. "I know what I'm doing. I'm just looking out for my family."

"Your family needs you to be at your best, Steve," Bruce said with a heavy sigh of defeat.

"My family needs me to protect them," he shot back moments before he walked out the door.

-

Steve loved the noises Sarah made when she was being fed. Her little forehead would always wrinkle in concentration as she suckled intently on the rubber teat of her bottle and every now and then a gentle grunt or sigh would escape her and Steve would find himself melting away bit by bit at the sounds. He smiled and pulled the bottle away from her rosy lips, allowing her a moment to breathe before finishing off the rest of her meal, and suddenly the urge to press a kiss to her little nose was too strong to resist.

"You're my sweet little girl," he cooed taking a moment to brush aside a drop of milk trailing down her little chin with the tip of his knuckle. 

She was looking less pink every day, the natural brown of her having gradually settled to the surface. Sometimes Steve would look at his daughter's sand colored skin and wonder what his mother would have thought of having a grandchild like Sarah. Often he would shake those thoughts out of his head and hold firmly onto the little body in his arms and tell himself it didn't matter, because Sarah was perfect and he and Sam loved her no matter what. He pressed a quick kiss to the plump apple of her cheek before placing the bottle against her lips once more.

"My sweet girl," he whispered as little lashes began to flutter against her cheeks. "My sweet, sweet girl."

Sarah finished off the rest of the bottle in no time at all and Steve held her securely in his hands as he rubbed her back tenderly in order to ensure there weren't any gas bubbles upsetting her delicate stomach. Sam entered the nursery just as Steve had finished wiping the last traces of milk from Sarah's face. Steve was able to feel the tension radiating from him before Sam could even speak, and Steve sighed as he readied himself for what he already knew was about to come.

"So I just got off the phone with Bruce," Sam began as evenly as he could manage as he walked around Steve in order to perch himself against the low window sill across from him. "Apparently you haven't been getting much sleep lately."

"I've been getting a few naps in here and there," he shrugged as Sarah rested gently in his arms. He could tell by the way she was breathing that she was already drifting off to sleep and was mindful to keep his voice low.

"Two hours a night, Steve? Seriously?" Sam sighed and shook his head. "What's going on, man? I knew you were getting up to check on her..."

"I'm fine, Sam, honestly. I'm a super soldier, remember? My body is built to handle anything." Steve glanced down at the little bundle now sleeping peacefully in his arms and sighed. "Look, Sam, I don't wanna fight in front of the baby."

"This isn't a fight," Sam assured him with a deceptively casual wave of his hand. "This is just us having a discussion about an issue that needs to be taken care of before it gets outta hand."

Steve frowned skeptically at Sam's words. Even if they didn't fight often, Steve could tell from the set of Sam's jaw and the way he kept his arms firmly crossed over his chest that he was upset. He couldn't help but feel irritated that Bruce had gone ahead and spoken to Sam behind his back, yet at the same time Steve knew that he should have expected as much. "There's nothing... it's not gonna get out of hand. I'm used to not getting much sleep."

"You used to get a solid six hours before the baby."

"Yeah and now that I'm a dad, I'm getting a little less. That's fine."

"Steve _two hours_ isn't 'a little less.'" Sam tense slightly as he took in a long, deep breath before slowly blowing it out again. He shifted, unfolding his arms and crossing them again as he did his best bottle up his irritation. The last thing either of them wanted to do was make a habit of fighting in front of Sarah. "Look, baby," Sam sighed as he rubbed at his bare arms. "I'm gonna be honest with you; right now I'm feeling hurt. I mean, I'm okay with giving you your space when it comes to your situation with Bucky -- there's a whole bunch of history there that's really complicated and I get that -- but when it comes to your health or Sarah... that's something we need to talk about and I'm really upset you didn't trust me enough to talk about this."

Steve cringed at the weight of Sam's words and suddenly felt a small twinge of guilt settling into the pit of his stomach. He hated the idea of hurting Sam, of upsetting him in anyway, but the idea that Sam thought for even a second that he didn't trust him made Steve feel almost sick inside. "I'm sorry, Sam," he murmured gently as his fingers flexed against Sarah's blanket swaddled little body. Sarah gave a soft little groan in his arms as her little face scrunched and turned against him. Her nose was practically buried against his chest and her lips were parted just enough for Steve to feel her warm gasps of breath against him. "I'm really sorry. I... I just..."

Sam let out a long sigh as he moved from the window sill in order to drag the heavy plastic bin that was being used to store a few extra odds and ends they hadn't quite found a place for. It wasn't the most sturdy material, but it was just strong enough to hold Sam's weight for the time being as he lowered himself carefully beside Steve. "It's okay, baby," he assured him, reaching over to give his shoulders a tender rub. "It's alright. Just... tell me what's going on. Talk to me."

He shifted, feeling the chair tilt back a bit further than he had intended in response to his nervous twitching. "I just thought that this was normal," he admitted hesitantly. "Losing sleep, feeling scared... Isn't that how parents are supposed to feel?"

For a long moment Sam was silent as he stared at him, his gazing thoughtful yet surprisingly critical as he seemed to work something over in his mind. "Scared how?" he prodded evenly and Steve could tell from the fact that Sam was using his councilor voice that something was wrong. "Tell me what scares you."

Steve frowned as he considered the situation a bit more carefully. "Well, maybe 'scared' wasn't the right word," he blurted out, but saw from the way Sam's jaw seemed to tighten that he wasn't about to let Steve take back his previous comment. He shifted again, this time managing to keep the chair a bit more level as he did so. "I just... don't like leaving her," he admitted at length, his gaze drifting back to the round little face resting against his chest. "I get anxious sometimes. Even when I know that you or Darlene's with her... I can only be away for an hour before I start to feel..." His skin prickled like a blast of chilled air had smacked him in the face at the very thought of Sarah alone and afraid and too far from his arms. His stomach felt knotted and cold at the very idea of being unable to kiss her tear stained cheeks or sooth her empty stomach or fight off any unseen foes. A familiar heat was building in the back of his eyes and it felt so stupid to cry like this when he hadn't shed a single tear in almost a month. "This isn't normal, is it?"

Sam said nothing as he stood awkwardly from his improvised seat in order to wrap his arms around Steve's broad shoulders and pull his head towards his chest. Somehow the act of being held like a child was enough to give the tears the extra push they needed and Steve suddenly found himself burying his face into the fabric of Sam's shirt and weeping openly. "It's okay," Sam soothed as his fingers gently brushed their way down the back of Steve's head. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I mean, I get scared too. Sometimes I think I'm being too rough, like my hands are big ol' rocks and she's just a little marshmallow. And the first night we brought her back here? I think the only reason I was able to sleep was because I knew JARVIS would wake us up if she stopped breathing or something."

"I know," Steve said as he pulled away in order to scrub at his eyes and cheeks with the heel of his palm. "I know that there are enough cameras in the walls and ceilings to keep her safe. It's why I don't really wanna leave anymore, you know? I mean, living with Tony's not so bad and we've got plenty of room, plus there's so much security."

He watched as Sam nodded along with his words, his hands still brushing slow and soothing across his scalp as his wide eyes studied Steve's features. "But not enough to really put your mind at ease," he said, his words flat and certain as he kneeled down beside Steve so that they were closer to eye level. "I want you to know that you're going to be okay. You didn't do anything wrong and you're going to be okay. We're gonna get you some help."

His heart sank as his gaze drifted away from Sam, away from Sarah, to a spot on the ground where he could quietly focus and pin his gaze as he silently felt low and miserable and stupid. "You mean pills," he concluded gloomily as he brushed his thumb against the side of the blanket swaddling Sarah's little shoulder. 

"I mean someone to talk to," Sam said firmly as he grasped Steve's chin and gently guided him back so that they could see eye to eye. "And yeah, maybe there'll be some medicine you can take to help you sleep, but that doesn't mean you're a bad father. It doesn't mean you failed, Steve."

\--

**June**

"Look at that girl lift her head like a champ." Sam laughed as he sat cross legged on the floor watching Sarah lying on the ground, arms and legs tucked underneath her body as she hesitantly held her little head up. 

Her body was getting bigger and fuller now, her arms and legs still not ready to balance themselves, but growing strong enough to move securely on their own and Steve couldn't help, but watch in awe as she blinked her eyes and bobbled her head in the air. He smiled and pressed himself flat on the carpet in order to get a better look at her. His stomach was flush against the beige floor and his cheek was pillowed alongside the smooth surface and Sarah seemed to blink a bit in confusion at the odd angle. Sam laughed a bit harder as he pressed his hand against Sarah's back, his touch light and tender and greeted with a slight gurgle as she lowered herself back a bit before lifting up again. 

"She's a powerhouse."

"She's getting so big," Steve sighed as he watched her plump little lips move wordlessly as she struggled to maintain her balance. He smiled and leaned closer to brush the bridge of his nose against her shoulder before giving the tips of her ears a kiss. "You'll be walking in no time."

"She's gotta crawl before she can walk," Sam reminded him. He gave Sarah's diapered bottom a few quick pats before lifting her up and into his arms. "And she's still got a ways to go before she can crawl."

Steve's smile widened in silent relief at that comment. He enjoyed watching Sarah grow and develop, but he was also filled with a strong sense of relief in the knowledge that she wasn't advancing at an unnaturally accelerated rate. 

"Look at those baby blues," Sam cooed as he rocked her gently in his arms, producing a soft gurgle from the baby's pink lips. He hummed appreciatively as Sarah flexed her tiny fingers in the air. "Now I've got two sets of pretty blue eyes to look at all day."

"Funny," Steve smirked with a touch of sarcasm as he rolled onto his back. "Pass her this way. I want some post tummy time cuddling, too."

He gave the top of his chest a firm pat as Sam rolled his eyes at him. "So greedy," he teased as he gently laid Sarah stomach first against Steve's waiting chest. The smell of diapers and baby powder instantly hit his nose and Steve grinned as Sarah gave a grunt before resting her head against him. "You know you had her all to yourself for nine whole months! I think it's time you learned how to share."

Steve laughed as he gently stroked his large hand down Sarah's back. He could feel her lashes fluttering in long slow blinks as her puffs of breath began to turn steady and even against the thin fabric of his t-shirt. "Okay, smart guy, next time _you_ can carry the kid and then we'll see how you are at sharing."

Sam gave a tight little chuckle as he leaned back on his elbow in order to get a better look at Sarah as she tried and failed to fight off the cloud of sleep settling on her. She struggled to turn her head in order to look up at Sam, bobbing weakly against him. Sam rewarded her efforts by brushing the pad of his thumb against the gentle waves in her hair. "Fortunately for me, I doubt it'll work that way," he said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "And frankly, next baby? I'm thinking we should adopt."

A thoughtful hum escaped Steve at the comment, remembering all that they had gone through in the last year, particularly the pregnancy that, looking back, seemed alternately incredibly simple and shockingly complicated. The delivery was still something of a pain induced blur, but Steve still clearly remembered the swollen feet, months of vomiting, and the way his mood constantly seemed to shift at the drop of a hat. Those were all things he certainly did not miss, yet there were still moments when Steve would lie awake and half expect to feel a push or kick against his hard flat stomach and feel a bit lonely when nothing happened.

Sarah wiggled her legs and dropped her head against Steve's chest in search of a comfortable position to sleep. "You know what?" Steve began thoughtfully as he continued stroking her back. "That sounds like a good idea."

Sam's eyebrow quirked in mild surprise as he shifted and lowered himself until he was lying with his stomach flat on the ground beside him. "For real?"

"Yeah," Steve said sincerely as he tugged at gently at Sarah's foot, wrapped up snuggly in her pink and white pajamas. "It's like you said, there are plenty of kids out there that could use a good home and we've got plenty of room to spare." Sarah scrunched up her nose and gave a few quick sneezes which Steve responded to by wiping her little nose with the pad of his thumb and muttering a quick "bless you" into the tips of her little ears. "We'll adopt the next baby and then maybe the one after that we'll have naturally."

"And just how many baby birds are we planning on having?"

"A lot," Steve teased. "We've got a big nest and I wanna fill it out."

"Okay, so natural baby, adopted baby, natural baby, then two more adopted babies, and then _three_ natural babies, _and then_..."

"Hey, hey! Not that big!" Steve said as he fought off the loud fit of belly laughs that were bubbling up inside of him. Yet the sight of Sam grinning from ear to ear before burying his face in the carpet fibers was difficult to resist. "I'm thinking more around five or six."

"Seriously?" Sam practically shouted as he twisted his head over to stare at Steve in open disbelief. "Six? For real? _Six_?"

"Yeah, we can do six. Especially if I'm not going to be pushing _all of them_ out."

Sam still looked skeptical, but Steve could tell that he didn't want to push the topic either. He merely shrugged his shoulders and pillowed his arms beneath his head as he lay quietly next to Steve and watched Sarah sleep. "So do you think you're still up for heading out tonight?" Sam asked carefully, his gentle eyes studying Steve's features. "I mean, if you're not ready I can always call up my mom and tell her not to head over."

"No, I'm okay," Steve said gently as he turned to meet Sam's gaze. He was still working through his anxieties over leaving Sarah alone, but the therapy and the medication he had been prescribed were doing well to help him. The thought of being away from Sarah for hours at a time no longer made him feel cold and sick inside, but Steve doubted he would be able to go on an overnight trip or even a mission anytime soon. Steve sighed and gave the top of Sarah's hair a tender kiss before turning back to Sam. "I'm up for it."

They shared a comfortable silence for a few moments, listening to the gentle sounds of Sarah dozing as time slipped by around them. After a while Sam began to shift before rolling onto his back. He sat up and stretched before pushing himself back onto his feet. 

"I'm going to put her to bed," Sam whispered as he gently lifted Sarah into her arms. Sam's touch was careful enough that he was easily able to lift her from Steve's chest without producing so much as a coo, yet Steve was ashamed to admit that he still felt a bit sad at the loss of her warmth against him. "You feel up for lunch?"

"Definitely," Steve grinned as he pushed himself up by his elbows. 

His back had just barely brushed up against the base of the couch when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket. Sam paused for a moment as Steve reached for his cell phone and frowned at the words "Unknown" flashing across the display. On a whim he swiped to accept the call, expecting to hear static or an automated voice greeting him after he gave a half hearted hello. What he didn't expect was to hear a familiar voice offer nothing more than a flat "Steve."

Steve stiffened at the sound of Bucky's voice, his whole body going tense the way it often did at the mere thought of his friend. His eyes flickered up towards Sam to see that his own gaze had gone a bit wide with concern before understanding slowly relaxed his features. "Hey," Steve said in a voice as calm and even as he could manage given the circumstances. Steve gave Sam a slight nod to let him know that he would be alright on his own. Sam hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing into a tight line as his eyes lingered on Steve's a bit longer before reluctantly carrying Sarah out of the room.

He took a deep breath and held it as he waited for Bucky to go on. The sound of the door to Sarah's room closing seemed to echo against the strained silence. Steve wanted to say that he could see Bucky clearly, holding the base of the phone nervously in the palm of hand, pulling the cord smooth with the tips of his rough fingers as he clenched his jaw and stamped his right foot in a heavy, lazy manner, but the image wasn't right. Those were things that the old Bucky would have done, this new Buck was a stranger slowly melding back into the form of the friend he had grown up with and Steve simply could not predict his actions at all.

After what felt like a full five minutes, Bucky cleared his throat and maybe licked his lips before continuing. "How's Sarah?" he asked stiffly in what was likely his attempt at making small talk. It was a sign that he was shifting closer to normal and Steve could only assume that the time away from Hydra's regular mind wipes was doing a world of good. "How... how is she?"

"Good," Steve said instantly, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth despite the tension he was still feeling. "She's good. Getting bigger every day."

It was a struggle to resist the urge to say "she misses her Uncle Bucky" because Steve still didn't want to push Bucky into doing anything he didn't feel ready for.

"Good. I'm glad." Bucky's voice was flat and even, but Steve had a feeling he meant it, that he was genuinely happy to hear that Sarah was developing well. There was another long pause as Bucky likely gathered his thoughts or struggled to remember how the flow of a casual phone call was meant to go. "I saw you in the paper," he told him. "You're out."

It took Steve a moment to realize what Bucky was referring to and his eyes widened a bit when the understanding finally dawned on him. Pepper had been pushing him to release some sort of statement about his current living situation and after nearly a month of debating, Steve had finally agreed. The idea was to spread the information in phases, the first step being to let people know about his sexuality, which he would do by conducting a phone interview with a journalist and paper that Ms. Potts had handpicked, assuring Steve that he would be treated respectfully. The next step was to leak out to the same paper that there was someone in his life before, if Sam felt comfortable with it and he had assured Steve several times that he was, doing an interview together. Introducing the world to Sarah was still up in the air and given the mixed response the first phase had received, Steve was becoming increasingly hesitant to do so.

The story had made the front page and Steve still cringed at the paper's tacky headline proclaiming that "Captain America is Here and Queer." The conservative press had fit over the whole situation, some even going so far as to speculate that Steve had been brainwashed by the liberal media and didn't understand what he was saying. The idea that he somehow didn't understand his own feelings was frustrating and made him feel like a child being scolded by his parents. Yet the number of people who had written, called, and emailed the paper just to say that they were "morally outraged" and "disgusted" that they would run such a tasteless article was even more infuriating, especially when people began to assume that, since it was in print and not video, the whole thing had been a hoax.

"Told ya, you should have gone on TV," Stark had taken pleasure in chiding after the hoax speculations had begun to spread. Yet Steve still did not feel comfortable with going on air and talking into a camera about something as personal as how miserable he had felt for first few years of his life at the idea that there was something wrong with him and how he had spent nearly two decades keeping his feelings stuffed deep down inside.

There had been one response that had made the ordeal feel worth it, a young man who had written to the paper to tell them that he felt so relieved knowing that one of his heroes was just like him and reading about Captain America coming out gave him the courage to finally open up to his own family. That alone was enough for Steve to feel that he had made the right decision.

"Yeah," he said at length, realizing for the first time that Bucky had never even known about this side of him before. He remembered staying awake at night sick with the idea that if he had ever told Buck about half of his thoughts his friend would instantly turn his back on him in disgust. Obviously seeing him with Sam had clued Bucky in on his secret and Steve was just relieved to know that his oldest friend was willing to accept him for who he was. "Yeah. I'm out."

"That's good," Bucky said in a surprisingly firm voice. "I'm... I'm proud of you."

Steve felt his heart swell at Bucky's words, a familiar warmth gathering in the back of his eyes as he chuckled softly into the phone. "Thanks. Thank you."

"I, um, I'm in town," Bucky said, rushing the words together as if he needed to push them out before he lost his nerve. "I mean... I'm in New Jersey and... I know I was there in April, but..."

"You can come by," Steve assured him feeling warm and light at the idea that Bucky was actually _asking_ to be with them. "I mean, Sam and I have plans tonight, but you're always welcome here. I'm sure Sarah would love to see you."

"Really?" Bucky asked, his voice still flat but with a hint of something almost desperate in his voice.

"Yeah. Really."


End file.
